


Checkmate: the Queen, the Knight, and the Pawn

by dexstarr



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Brainwashing, Community: hp_darkfest, Devious magic, F/M, Kidnapping, Lucius Malfoy Being an Asshole, Malfoy Family, Malfoy Manor, Narcissa Malfoy Being Devious, Pensieves, Polyjuice Potion, Rape, Stockholm Syndrome, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-21 23:44:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11955210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dexstarr/pseuds/dexstarr
Summary: Angered by the way Harry Potter treats her family after the second war, Narcissa Malfoy takes matters into her own hands.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> _Harry Potter_ is not mine and no profit is made from this work. Written for the LJ community [hp_darkfest](https://hp-darkfest.livejournal.com/). See end notes for more information.

## Prologue:  
  
_‘Let reason govern thy lament.’_  
  
*     *     *

  
  
_December 25, 1998: 5:00 p.m.  
Malfoy Manor, the Family Wing_  
  
“Do you really think I’d wrap something illegal as a present and give it to my son?”  
  
“You might,” Harry said. “I seem to remember Draco giving a cursed necklace as a gift; seems like the sort of thing he’d learn from his mummy.”  
  
Narcissa’s pale cheeks flushed. “If you’re done scanning the gifts for Dark magic, I’d appreciate if you’d leave us in peace.”  
  
“I’ll be back,” he promised.  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_June 5, 1999: 2:00 p.m.  
Malfoy Manor, the Gardens_  
  
“Watch where you fly on that broom,” Harry said. “If you fly off the grounds….” He pointed his wand threateningly at Draco’s chest.  
  
“I know the boundaries of the estate,” Draco spat, fingers clenching the handle of his broomstick.  
  
Harry grinned, pleased with Draco’s reaction. He’d known interrupting the git’s birthday would be worth it.  
  
“I don’t think harassing my son is part of the terms of our house arrest,” Narcissa said, walking up behind Draco.  
  
“I’m just reminding him of where he’s allowed to go. Wouldn’t want him to get into trouble,” he chuckled, and watched as mother and son tried to control their irritation.  
  
When Narcissa spoke, there was no trace of the anger she felt in her voice. “What would you like to look at today, Mr. Potter?”  
  
“Oh, I think I’d like  _Draco_  to show me the gardens.”  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_August 2, 2000: 3:00 a.m.  
Malfoy Manor, the Master Suite_  
  
“Master, wake up!”  
  
“What?” Lucius snapped, glaring at the house-elf who had just tugged him awake.  
  
“Master, there is a man here to see you!”  
  
Lucius growled in anger. Potter delighted in finding new ways to annoy them, and middle of the night visits such as tonight’s were a current favorite.  
  
Did the boy  _actually_  think that he’d interrupt Lucius in the middle of something illegal if he showed up at night?  
  
“Show him in, Binky. I’ll be down in a minute.” Lucius would be damned if Potter would catch him in his nightclothes.  
  
Narcissa stirred, roused by the noise of him dressing. “Lucius?”  
  
He leaned over his wife and dropped a kiss on her forehead. “Potter’s here – I’ll take care of him. Go back to sleep, dear.”  
  
Lucius fixed a fake smile on his face as he went downstairs; inside he was fuming. Narcissa slept so rarely these days, and naturally Potter had to interrupt the one night of rest she was likely to get all week.  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_November 5, 2000: 10:30 p.m.  
Malfoy Manor, the Foyer_  
  
“Don’t Aurors keep decent hours?”  
  
Harry laughed. “Not when there are Dark witches and wizards to catch.”  
  
“My husband and I have renounced our ways,” Narcissa interjected and scowled slightly when Harry rolled his eyes.  
  
“I don’t think you have. I think you’re just putting on a good face for the Ministry.”  
  
“What you think doesn’t —” Lucius started to say, but his wife cut him off smoothly.  
  
“What would you like to search tonight, Mr. Potter?”  
  
  


## *     *     *

## One:  
  
_‘If one good deed in all my life I did, I do repent it from my very soul.’_  
  
*     *     *

  
  
_March 2, 2001: 11:00 p.m.  
Malfoy Manor, Draco’s Bedroom_  
  
“Father, no!”  
  
Narcissa halted outside her son’s room and pressed her ear to the door.  
  
“Please, not Daddy!”  
  
She sighed; Draco was having yet another nightmare. She opened the door and saw that her son was tangled in the sheets, fighting against the grip of the green cotton. “Draco,” she said, sitting on the bed. “Darling, wake up.”  
  
He came awake with a gasp, his grey eyes clouded with fear and wet with tears. Narcissa pressed a soothing hand to his sweaty forehead. “Shhh,” she murmured, pulling him into her arms. “Did you have another nightmare?”  
  
Draco nodded into her shoulder. They’d repeated this almost nightly for the past two and a half years; he’d been plagued by bad dreams ever since his release from Azkaban.  
  
“Did you take your potion?”  
  
“Yes,” he pointed at the empty vial on the nightstand even though she couldn’t see it. “It isn’t working anymore, Mother.”  
  
She sighed and said, “I’ll have to see if I can make you something stronger. Next time I … go to Diagon Alley, I’ll see if I can get ingredients for Dreamless Sleep.” Narcissa hugged him and asked, “What nightmare was it tonight, Draco?”  
  
Draco shivered a little. He hated talking about his dreams. He knew they couldn’t hurt him, and he was too old to be frightened – but his nightmares weren’t about the evil dragon under the bed, like when he’d been five. These nights the dead, broken bodies of his parents flashed before his eyes, repeating over and over until he screamed his throat raw, and woke up clammy and sweaty.  
  
“It was Father,” he said, burrowing more deeply into his mother’s arms, like he had when he was a child. “He was … Nagini … the D-dark L-lord had her….”  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_March 2, 2001: 11:30 p.m.  
Malfoy Manor, the Master Suite_  
  
Lucius stirred when she slipped into their bed, rolling over sleepily to ask, “Another nightmare?”  
  
Narcissa snuggled into her husband’s open arms, enjoying the warmth of his body after the chilly air of the manor. She’d been pacing the halls, as was her wont since the war, unable to sleep because of her own bad dreams. “Yes,” she said. “It was about you, tonight.”  
  
The two lay quietly for a few minutes, both lost in their own thoughts.  
  
“Lucius?”  
  
“Hmm?”  
  
“I can’t live like this anymore,” Narcissa said, turning to face her husband. “We have no respect. No privacy. Potter barges into our home whenever he feels like it, at any time of the day or night. I can’t leave the grounds without an escort. I can’t even go to get Draco potions without asking permission….”  
  
Lucius stroked his wife’s hair, trying to calm her down. “We only have to put up with it for another few months, dear. Then we can go back to our normal lives —”  
  
“Do you really think things will go back to normal, just like that?” Narcissa asked bitterly. “Our reputation is in ruins, Lucius. I’m insulted and jeered at everywhere I go;  _you_  refuse to leave the manor anymore because you can’t take it.”   
  
“We just have to endure it a little longer,” Lucius said.  
  
“I never thought I’d hear  _Lucius Malfoy_  telling me we have to endure the indignities imposed upon us by blood-traitors and Mudbloods,” she spat, pulling away from his embrace.  
  
Lucius sighed. They had this talk often and it never ended well. “Do you think I like it? Do you think I like simpering to Potter? Smiling like a fool and leading him around our home so he can stick his nose wherever he wants?” He ran his fingers through his long hair tiredly. “I hate it, Narcissa, but I’m not fool enough to argue when we escaped with our lives. A few years of house arrest and intrusions by Potter are a small price to pay for all of us avoiding Azkaban permanently.”  
  
“I know,” she said quietly. “I just … I want things back the way they were, Lucius. I want our real lives back.”  
  
“So do I.” He reached for his wife again, and she acquiesced, resting her head on his shoulder. “Go to sleep, dear. I’m sure Potter will show up bright and early tomorrow morning.”  
  


*     *     *

  
_March 3, 2001: 9:00 a.m.  
Malfoy Manor, the Foyer_  
  
_Knock. Knock._  
  
“Good morning, Mr. Potter.”  
  
“Malfoy,” Harry acknowledged, stepping inside the doorway, with Hermione Granger following. “I’m here for a surprise search.”  
  
Lucius nodded. Potter showed up often for his ‘surprise searches,’ hoping to catch the Malfoys looking through some Dark spellbook or using some Dark artifact. In the past two and a half years, Potter hadn’t found anything – not one single item – but he hadn’t given up. Lucius knew the boy wouldn’t either; Potter was far too determined for his own good.  
  
“Do come in, Mr. Potter, Miss Granger,” Narcissa said glibly, gliding down the marble staircase to join Harry and Lucius in the foyer. “How can we help you today?”  
  
“I want to examine the cellars,” Harry said. “And Hermione would like to use the library while I look around, and then she can take Narcissa to Diagon Alley.”  
  
Lucius’s lips drew tight at the informal way Potter referred to his wife, but he nodded. “Of course. This way,” he said, unnecessarily – Potter knew their house almost as well as he did by now.  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_March 3, 2001: 2:00 p.m.  
Malfoy Manor, the Foyer_  
  
“Where do you need to go today, Mrs. Malfoy?” Hermione asked politely.  
  
“Just the apothecary – I need asphodel and valerian.” Narcissa slipped a heavy cloak around her shoulders and fastened the silver clasp. She pointedly set her wand on an antique table in the entry hall; they weren’t allowed to take their wands when they left the grounds.  
  
Hermione led the way outside, and held out her arm for Narcissa. She Apparated them to Diagon Alley. “You’re making sleeping potions?”  
  
“I thought I would brew some Dreamless Sleep, but I don’t have asphodel or valerian growing in the gardens.” She sighed, reminded of yet another annoyance in their new life – she’d never imagined she’d be forced to grow her own potions ingredients.  
  
On their way out of the apothecary, Hermione asked, “Do you mind if we stop at Flourish and Blotts? I wouldn’t ask normally, but since we’re already here….”  
  
“I don’t mind,” Narcissa said.  
  
She felt the usual cold looks as they walked to the bookshop. People never tired of seeing Narcissa Malfoy doing her shopping in the company of a guard. But she refused to be affected by the stares and walked with her head high, even when she heard someone mutter,  _“Snake-loving bitch.”_  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_March 3, 2001: 11:30 p.m.  
Malfoy Manor, the Master Suite_  
  
Lucius was waiting for her when she returned to their room that night. “How’s Draco?”  
  
”He’s fine tonight, fortunately.”  
  
“I started the base for Dreamless Sleep earlier, so if you finish it tomorrow, he’ll have it for the next night.”  
  
Narcissa draped her silver silk robe over a chair. “I just hope it works. So many nightmares. It’s not healthy.”  
  
“He will be fine, dear. He’s a Malfoy.”  
  
She turned so quickly to face him the hem of her satin chemise flared out about her knees. “ _You_  still wake up screaming, some nights.”  
  
“I was there for much longer, Narcissa,” he reminded her. “And I had – have – you to comfort me.”  
  
“Maybe I’ll invite Pansy for our next visiting allowance,” she mused, tapping a slender finger against her lips as she thought. “She’d be happy to ‘comfort’ Draco. And I’d like to talk with her.”  
  
Lucius looked at his wife. “What would you have to talk about with  _that_  girl?”  
  
Narcissa started pacing their bedroom, walking back and forth before the fire. “I’ve been thinking. When I was in Diagon Alley today —”  
  
His stomach rolled. He’d been waiting for this; they  _always_  fought when she went out. “Yes?” he asked cautiously.  
  
“Oh don’t act like that, Lucius,” she snapped. “At least  _I_  have the courage to go out and put up with it.”  
  
“As you often remind me,” he muttered, and she glared at him. “Narcissa, you’re sick of it. I’m sick of it. But do we really have to fight about it every night? We have it pretty good considering —”  
  
Lucius quailed as the intensity of her stare ratcheted; her blue eyes reminded him of sharply cut sapphires.  
  
“Since when has ‘pretty good’ been enough for  _you_ , Lucius?”  
  
“Damn it, Narcissa! What do you want me to  _do_?”  
  
She stopped pacing and stood facing him, her hands on her hips. “Make things right again, Lucius! Like you did after the first war.”  
  
“I can’t!” He shook his head exasperatedly. “I can’t claim the Imperious like I did then – everyone knows we acted of our free will this time. But it’s not  _that_  bad … we’re alive, we’re not in Azkaban for life, and soon we’ll be done with the house arrest too. Just a few more months, Narcissa.”  
  
He was startled to see tears filling her eyes, and his heart softened. “Come here,” Lucius said, patting the spot beside him.  
  
“What is it?” He wrapped his arms around his wife and pulled her close.  
  
“I should … I … I can’t put up with the insults anymore. The … the … they should  _respect_  me, but they don’t.” Narcissa sobbed into his shoulder, and Lucius was momentarily shocked.  
  
His wife had been a pillar of strength through their entire ordeal – from when the Dark Lord had taken up residence in their manor until their arrest and subsequent release from Azkaban. She had kept him and Draco civil toward Potter, had dealt with every indignity that had come their way – and  _now_  she was breaking?  
  
“Shh,” he said awkwardly, gently patting her heaving back. “Shhh. We’ll get through this, Cissa.”  
  
_Ding. Ding._  
  
His wife stiffened in his arms – the light bell was an alert that Draco was having a bad dream. “Do you want me to go?” Lucius asked.  
  
“No,” Narcissa said, wiping tears off her face with the back of her hand. “He’s used to me.”  
  
Lucius sighed at the absurdity of it – they were talking about their twenty-year-old son as if he were a baby. “I’ll wait up,” he said, watching as Narcissa charmed her tear-blotchy skin back to its usual paleness and shrugged into her robe.  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_March 4, 2001: 1:01 a.m.  
Malfoy Manor, the Master Suite_  
  
“I went down to check the potion,” Lucius said by way of greeting when Narcissa came back from Draco’s room. “It will definitely be ready after you add the asphodel and valerian.”  
  
“Thank you, Lucius.”  
  
Her voice was oddly stiff, and Lucius looked closely at his wife. Was she still upset from their earlier argument? “Narcissa? I really do wish I could put things right,” he said softly.  
  
“Would you help me?” She pulled back the sheets and climbed into bed.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Would you help me? If I wanted to make things right?” Narcissa turned toward her husband. “Would you support me, Lucius?”  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_March 30, 2001: 3:00 p.m.  
Malfoy Manor, the Foyer  
  
Knock. _  
  
“Please come in, Pansy.”  
  
“Hello, Mrs. Malfoy,” Pansy said, craning her neck around the other woman to look for Draco.  
  
“Draco will be down in a moment, dear. And please, call me Narcissa.”  
  
Pansy’s eyes widened in surprise; Mrs. Malfoy had never been anything more than coolly polite to her. “How have you been … Narcissa?” she asked awkwardly.  
  
Narcissa laughed lightly, trying to set Pansy at ease. Narcissa needed the girl to be comfortable around her. “Oh, as well as can be expected,” she said airily. “How are your parents doing, and yourself?”  
  
“Er, we’ve been alright.” Pansy heard footsteps pounding down the stairs, and looked up to see Draco coming down. “Draco!” she called, relieved to see her boyfriend.  
  
“Hi, Pansy,” he said.  
  
Narcissa waved her hand at them and said, “I’m sure you two have plenty two talk about; Draco can tell you about the trip we’re planning for him. I’ll have Binky bring up some tea.”  
  
“Thank you, Mother.”   
  
Draco and Pansy turned to go up to his room, but Narcissa said, “Pansy, I’d like to talk with you before you leave.”  
  
Pansy glanced at Draco, but he shrugged cluelessly. “Er, okay.”   
  


*     *     *

  
  
_March 30, 2001: 6:00 p.m.  
Malfoy Manor, the Library_  
  
“Narcissa?” Pansy tapped hesitantly on the doorframe of the library, and the older woman looked up from her book.  
  
“Take a seat, Pansy.”  
  
Pansy sat obediently and looked at Narcissa. She was quite uncomfortable; Draco’s mother had never asked to speak to her alone, and she wondered what the woman wanted.  
  
Narcissa folded her hands over her book and said, “Did you have a good visit with Draco?” She pointedly ignored Pansy’s rumpled skirt, knowing exactly how the girl had ‘comforted’ her son.  
  
“Oh, yeah … he told me you’re sending him to France in September?”  
  
Narcissa nodded. “Yes, his father and I think he needs a holiday to shake off the last three years. It’s not healthy for him to be cooped up on the estate for so long.”  
  
“No, it’s not!” Pansy agreed immediately. “I still can’t believe the Ministry sentenced you to house arrest for three years. How do you put up with Potter sticking his slimy nose in whenever he feels like it?”  
  
Narcissa’s eyes narrowed as she answered, “It’s not easy. But Lucius likes to remind me that we were lucky to escape life in Azkaban. You spent some time in there yourself, didn’t you?”  
  
“Yes,” Pansy spat viciously. “All because I wanted to turn Potter in to the Dark Lord.”  
  
“Would you like to get him back for that, Pansy?” Narcissa asked softly.  
  
Pansy stared at her, mouth gaping open. “Get back at him?” she repeated dumbly.  
  
Narcissa nodded. “Yes. Potter doesn’t show me – us – the respect we deserve. Would you like to get revenge on him for what he did to you?”  
  
“Just tell me what to do,” Pansy said, her brown eyes glittering with excitement.  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_June 6, 2001: 2:00 p.m.  
Malfoy Manor, the Foyer_  
  
“Good afternoon, Mr. Potter.”  
  
Harry mumbled a greeting and walked into the marbled entryway. Narcissa looked behind him for Hermione, but didn’t see the young witch. “Is Hermione coming today?”  
  
“No, she’s sitting her N.E.W.Ts this week and next,” Harry said.  
  
“Oh.” Narcissa’s shoulders slumped. “What would you like to search today?”  
  
“The library,” he said, kicking his shoe against the stone floor. “Er, did you need to go somewhere?”  
  
Her stomach churned when she said, “Diagon Alley.” She  _hated_  having to ask  _Potter_  to take her. But she would do anything for her son, and he needed more Dreamless Sleep.  
  
“Potions ingredients?” When she nodded, Harry said, “I … I could take you, when I’m done here.”  
  
“I would appreciate that, Mr. Potter.”  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_June 6, 2001: 4:30 p.m.  
London, Diagon Alley_  
  
They were walking down the street, headed for the apothecary, when Narcissa overheard a voice say, “Just who does she think she is? Strolling down the street like she owns the place.”  
  
“Mmm,” someone else agreed.  
  
“The bitch belongs in Azkaban, along with that damn husband and pathetic son of hers.”  
  
“Don’t know how they escaped that,” the other person said.  
  
“Harry said she helped him somehow, but that’s not good enough for me. They’re worthless, the whole lot … I’d chuck them in Azkaban faster than you could blink if it were up to me.”  
  
Narcissa’s ears perked, and she finally recognized the first voice. It was Ginevra Weasley. Harry Potter’s fiancée.  
  
Harry continued down the street as if he hadn’t heard his girlfriend, and Narcissa’s eyes narrowed in anger. So Potter hadn’t told her that Narcissa had saved his life? That she’d changed the course of the battle?  
  
She gritted her teeth in annoyance; she’d  _known_  his nicer attitude was too good to be true.  
  
And just like that, another piece of her plan clicked into place.  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_June 10, 2001: 2:00 a.m.  
Malfoy Manor, Draco’s Bedroom  
  
“Mummy, nooooo!” _  
  
Narcissa’s heart was in her throat when she pushed open Draco’s door. The alarm had alerted her that he was having another nightmare, and she’d rushed to his room. The Dreamless Sleep potion had apparently quit blocking his night terrors.  
  
If the volume of his cries was any indicator, he was having a  _very_  bad dream.  
  
“Draco,” she leaned over him and put a hand on his damp, sweaty forehead. “Darling, wake up. Mummy’s here, dearest.”  
  
His grey eyes latched on hers as he woke up. “Mother?” His voice was ragged.  
  
“I’m here, dear. See? I’m alive.” She fixed his knotted and tangled sheets and sat beside her son. “What did you dream, darling?”  
  
He crawled into her open arms. “I … Voldemort … he … it was the Killing Curse, Mother. At you. Because I … I failed.”  
  
Narcissa hugged him and made soothing noises in his ear. “He’s gone, Draco. He can’t hurt me, or you, anymore.”  
  
“Oh Mum, I wish I was strong like you,” Draco whispered, and her heart broke.  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_June 10, 2001: 9:30 a.m.  
Malfoy Manor, the Morning Room_  
  
“Lucius?”  
  
He looked at his wife over the top of  _The Daily Prophet._ “Mmhm?”  
  
“I’m going through with this whether you help me or not, but I  _would_  appreciate your assistance.” Narcissa’s eyes were flinty and dark blue, her arms crossed determinedly across her chest.  
  
“What?” Lucius racked his brain, trying to remember what she was talking about. His wife had an annoying habit of continuing a conversation from where they’d last left off, which usually left him scrambling to recall what she was talking about. “ _Oh._ Right.”  
  
He folded the newspaper and took a sip of tea, and then asked petulantly, “Will I have to touch her?”  
  
“Only if you want to.”  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_June 10, 2001: 11:30 p.m.  
Malfoy Manor, the Master Suite  
  
“You,” said the Dark Lord, pointing his wand at her. She shrieked when a hex stung her cheek. “Examine him. Tell me whether he is dead.”  
  
Narcissa crept toward the boy lying on the forest floor, and knelt next to him, her knees sinking into the leaves and dirt. She touched his face and felt warm flesh and his breath ghosting over her hand. She slipped a hand under his shirt, and felt his heart thumping solidly against her palm.  
  
He_  wasn’t  _dead.  
  
Her fingernails dug into his chest as she tried to think what to do. Should she say he was alive? What would the Dark Lord do? Would he take out his anger on Potter’s survival on her? Or would he finally finish the brat off once and for all? Most importantly, where was Draco?  
  
“My Lord … he is —”_  
  
“Narcissa! Wake up!” Lucius shouted at his wife, trying to rouse her from an apparent nightmare. He leaned over her and then yelped when she hit him in the nose with a flailing arm.  
  
“Wake up!” He grabbed her and shook her roughly, careful to avoid her arms this time.  
  
When she woke, Lucius was surprised to see her eyes were glassy with tears. “Darling,” he said softly, pulling her onto his lap. “Darling, what’s wrong?”  
  
“I dreamt of what I did wrong.”  _That_  was  _her_  nightmare. The one wrong step she’d made in the forest, the moment that had turned her world upside down. She was constantly plagued with what-ifs. What-if she hadn’t said Potter was dead? What-if she hadn’t lied to the Dark Lord?  
  
Although she hadn’t known it, Draco had been safe in Hogwarts, and she needn’t have lied to protect her son….  
  
What-if the Dark Lord had won? Surely she and her family would have been forgiven for their past failures, and they would have been at his right hand.  
  
They would have been secure in their place in the new world order, instead of where they were now. Forced to bow and scrape to the Ministry and  _Potter._ Forced to hide their true selves with simpering copies who were oh-so-happy to open their house anytime  _Potter_  wanted to sniff around for something illegal. Forced to put up with lesser people slandering them and showing no respect for  _what she’d done._  
  
Her son still had nightmares from his month and a half in Azkaban, her husband had been reduced to a lesser version of himself, and she …  _she_  put up with everything to keep her family intact and together.  
  
No more.  
  
She would not be forced to beg for grace from them anymore.  
  
She would have her revenge.  
  
“Narcissa?” Lucius said quietly, breaking into her reverie. He’d seen the thoughts flash across her face, and knew what she was thinking. He planted a gentle kiss on her forehead and said, “I’m with you, darling.”  
  
He didn’t see the smile of triumph that curved her lips.  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_August 20, 2001: 2:00 p.m.  
Malfoy Manor, Narcissa’s Study_  
  
“Do I really have to make an Unbreakable Vow?”  
  
“Yes. Why? Are you worried about breaking it?”  
  
Pansy stared at her shoes and mumbled, “Well, no —”  
  
“Good. There’s nothing to worry about then,” Narcissa said crisply. “Just think of it as an added precaution, dear.”  
  
Narcissa held out her hand and Pansy reluctantly took it. Lucius stepped closer to the two women and took out his wand; he would be their Bonder.  
  
“Do you, Pansy Parkinson, agree to keep our plan a secret?”  
  
“I do.”  
  
A blue flame slid from the tip of Lucius’s wand and wrapped around their linked hands.  
  
“Do you agree to carry out any and all orders I may give you?”  
  
“I do,” Pansy said again.  
  
A glowing red chain joined the blue flame, turning the light around their hands purple. Narcissa and Pansy watched as the flames twined about their fingers and then disappeared in a puff of violet smoke.  
  
“Excellent,” Narcissa said and let go of Pansy’s hand. “Now we can discuss the details.”  
  
Lucius and Narcissa sat down across from the young witch, who squirmed under their twin gazes. She still wasn’t used to Draco’s parents treating her as an equal, and while it was flattering – and promising, considering her wish to become part of their family – it was rather unsettling.  
  
“What do you think would hurt Potter the most?” Narcissa asked.  
  
Pansy chewed on her lower lip as she thought. “Uhm, he likes the Weasleys, doesn’t he? But I thought we were going to get back at Potter, not someone else.”  
  
Narcissa laughed, a light ringing sound that filled the study. “Pansy dear, I thought you were a Slytherin? Surely you understand the value of being devious rather than obvious? Which would hurt Potter more, being hurt himself or losing someone he loves?”  
  
Pansy shifted in her chair. “I do know,” she said hotly. “His fiancée then? That’s all  _The Daily Prophet_ covers anymore, the upcoming wedding of the ‘heroic Auror and his Quidditch star girlfriend.’ It’s utter trash these days; I’d rather read  _The Quibbler._ ”  
  
“Very good,” Lucius said, nodding approvingly.   
  
“She hates you anyway, Ginny does. She’s always going on about how you’re a bitch and belong in Azkaban….” Pansy trailed off as she realized what she said, and the tips of her ears turned red in embarrassment.  
  
Narcissa waved a careless hand. “Don’t worry, dear. I’m well aware of what she thinks of me; she’s certainly made no secret of it. That’s why she’s the one.”  
  
“The next Holyhead Harpies game is on September 4,” Lucius said. “That’s when you’re going to act….”  
  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_September 5, 2001: 12:30 a.m.  
Malfoy Manor, the Master Suite_  
  
“How is he tonight?”  
  
“I tried a new variation on the Dreamless Sleep potion; the apothecary recommended adding maypop when I bought herbs today. She thought it would help block his nightmares; I added it to a vial and it seems to be working.”  
  
Narcissa pulled back the sheets and slipped into bed beside her husband. Lucius saw that her eyes were sparkling, and that she was not as wan as she usually was after returning from Draco’s room. In fact, she looked positively radiant; her eyes were light blue with happiness and when she snuggled next to him, pressing against his groin, Lucius knew he’d made the right choice.  
  
“You’re feisty tonight,” he remarked and lightly nipped her ear.  
  
“Mmm,” Narcissa purred throatily and tilted her hips suggestively against his lower half.  
  
With a growl Lucius rolled on top of her, his hands pushing the thin straps of her satin chemise off her shoulders. He leaned down and nibbled on her neck, aiming for the exact spot that would make her whimper for him, and whimper she did, arching up into the warmth of his mouth.  
  
They made love that night with more ardour and passion than they’d felt in almost five years. Both were excited and turned on by knowing that Ginevra Weasley was sleeping below them, drugged and trapped in the Malfoy dungeons.  
  


*     *     *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic was written for the 2010 round of [hp_darkfest](https://hp-darkfest.livejournal.com/). The prompt was:
> 
>  _I'll find a day to massacre them all,_  
>  And raze their faction and their family,  
> The cruel father and his traitorous sons,  
> To whom I sued for my dear son's life;  
> And make them know, what 't is to let a queen  
> Kneel in the streets and beg for grace in vain.  
> \- William Shakespeare [Tamora, Titus Andronicus]
> 
> Come visit me on [tumblr!](http://galacticcoyote.tumblr.com/)


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Harry Potter_ is not mine and no profit is made from this work. Written for the LJ community [hp_darkfest](https://hp-darkfest.livejournal.com/). See end notes for more information.

## Two:  
  
_‘And wonder greatly that man’s face can fold in pleasing smiles such murderous tyranny.’_  
  
*     *     *

  
  
_September 5, 2001: 2:00 p.m.  
Malfoy Manor, the Foyer  
  
KnockknockKNOCK. _  
  
“How can I help you, Mr. Potter?”  
  
Harry pushed past Lucius and stepped into the foyer. “Where is she?”  
  
“Whomever are you talking about?”  
  
“Ginny! She didn’t go back to the Burrow last night after the Harpies game. No one’s seen her since yesterday.”  
  
“The only ‘she’ on these premises is my wife,” Lucius said, inclining his head toward Narcissa. “I have no idea where Miss Weasley is.”  
  
Harry glared at Lucius, his green eyes blazing with anger and impatience. “I will search every last inch of this place until I find her, and then I’ll make sure you lot are locked up in Azkaban!”  
  
“I’m not sure why you suspect us, Mr. Potter,” Narcissa said, “However, I can promise you that there is no one here but my husband, my son, and myself. You are welcome to look anywhere you like, of course, but you won’t find any one else.”  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_September 6, 2001: 8:00 a.m.  
Malfoy Manor, the Foyer_  
  
“Mr. Weasley, what a pleasant surprise,” Lucius drawled when he saw the boy standing behind Potter. “Miss Weasley is still missing, I presume?”  
  
“Yes,” Ron said shortly. He followed Harry into the entryway, scuffing his trainers against the stone floor. He wasn’t sure why his friend was so sure the Malfoys had taken Ginny, but he’d agreed to help Harry search the place for any trace of his sister. Ron was just as desperate as Harry was to find her before anything happened.  
  
Harry didn’t bother to exchange pleasantries; instead he stormed up the marble staircase and Ron hastily followed. Lucius trailed behind the two boys, but quickened his step when he saw that Potter was headed for the master suite.  
  
“Stop! My wife is still in bed —” Lucius reached out to grab Potter’s arm before the boy could barge into the bedroom.  
  
“Too bad,” Harry said flatly, dodging Lucius and pushing open the door.  
  
Narcissa looked up in shock when the three entered the room; she’d been sitting in the window seat, looking at the gardens below and having tea. She fingered the belt on her robe, thanking Merlin she was  _wearing_  a robe, and said dryly, “I see you’re back again, Mr. Potter. I assure you that Lucius and I don’t have your fiancée hidden in our bedroom.”  
  
Harry surveyed the large room, noting the number of closets and wardrobes. He’d been in the master suite before and had thoroughly searched it for traces of Dark magic, but he’d never considered all the hiding places the room afforded.  
  
He just  _knew_  Ginny was hidden somewhere in this immense house, and he was determined to find her.  
  
Harry strode toward the first tall armoire and flung open the doors. He pushed brusquely through the clothes hanging inside, and finding nothing, moved to the next wardrobe and repeated the hurried examination.  
  
“Search one of the closets, Ron,” Harry called from across the room, his nose buried in a dresser drawer.  
  
Ron picked one at random, opened the door, and his jaw dropped.  
  
“Oi! Harry!”  
  
Harry rushed to Ron’s side, and his jaw too dropped.  
  
“You’re a bunch of bloody perverts,” Harry spat at the Malfoys when he regained his voice.  
  
Narcissa looked murderous, and Lucius hurried to her side. “Don’t,” he said softly, placing a restraining hand on her arm.  
  
“Just because we have more … sophisticated tastes in the bedroom than you do, Potter, that doesn’t give you the right to insult us.” Lucius sneered at Harry, his composure intact, while Narcissa glared angrily, her cheeks flushed in embarrassment.  
  
“I suggest you look somewhere else for your fiancée,” Narcissa said icily. “Binky will show you out. Binky!”  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_September 6, 2001: unknown time  
Malfoy Manor, the Dungeons  
  
Where was she? This didn’t feel like her bed at home – it was too hard. The room was pitch-black as well, another sign she wasn’t at the Burrow. She_  always  _left a candle burning at night._  
  
Ginny rolled over and groaned when her back collided with something solid. Was that – stone? Her hands reached behind her and touched something cold and hard. She turned to face the wall, but it was too dark to see anything clearly.  
  
“ _Lumos,_ ” she whispered.  
  
Panic bubbled in her stomach when nothing happened; she’d been casting the light spell without a wand since she was a child and it  _always_  worked.  
  
_What was wrong?  
  
Try again, Ginny, _ she told herself. “ _Lumos,_ ” she said firmly.  
  
It didn’t work.  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_September 6, 2001: unknown time  
Malfoy Manor, the Dungeons_  
  
Ginny smelled food the next time she woke up. Immediately, her stomach growled, reminding her that her last meal had been a bit of toast and eggs before the Quidditch game … and that had been days ago …  _hadn’t it?  
  
But was the food safe to eat?  
  
“Lumos,” _ she said, but as before, the spell didn’t work.  
  
Ginny felt around in the dark and her fingers touched a metal plate sitting on the floor. She grabbed the plate and brought it to her face, squinting to try and see what was on it, but the blackness was so complete that she couldn’t see anything.  
  
She sniffed the plate carefully, picking up the scent of some kind meat and bread, but couldn’t detect anything abnormal.  
  
_But there are a lot of things that could hurt you that you wouldn’t be able to smell,_ her brain told her.  _Do you really think it’s safe to eat something you can’t even see?_  
  
Regretfully, Ginny put the plate back on the floor. She couldn’t take the chance that the food was poisoned. Her aching stomach would have to wait.  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_September 7, 2001: unknown time  
Malfoy Manor, the Dungeons_  
  
It was still dark the next time Ginny opened her eyes.  
  
The food was gone, too. She groaned and massaged her aching stomach, which was now demanding something to eat.  
  
“ _Lumos,_ ” she said, trying to ignore her hunger by concentrating on an imaginary ball of light. Maybe if she visualized the light, pictured it perfectly in her mind, the spell would work….  
  
The ball of light didn’t materialize.  
  
A strangled sob escaped her chapped lips, and Ginny curled up into a ball on her stone pallet.  
  
She couldn’t –  _wouldn’t_  – cry herself to sleep again like she’d done earlier. She had to figure out where she was, why she was there, and  _escape._  
  
It was dark, though. She  _hated_  the dark.  
  
How was she supposed to figure out where she was when she couldn’t see  _anything?  
  
“Lumos. Lumos. Lumos! LUMOSLUMOSLUMOS!” _  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_September 8, 2001: 11:00 a.m.  
The Ministry of Magic, the Minister’s Office_  
  
“Harry, you can’t keep harassing the Malfoys.”  
  
“They have Ginny, I know it!”  
  
Kingsley drummed his fingers on his desk, trying to stay patient. He and Harry had been talking for the past half hour, with Harry  _insisting_  that the Malfoys had his missing fiancée trapped somewhere on their estate.  
  
“Harry, you have to look at the evidence. Ginny disappeared from a Harpies game. The Malfoys haven’t been off their property since September 20, 1998, except when escorted to Diagon Alley.” Kingsley ticked each point off with another tap of his fingers against the desktop, and then played his trump card.  
  
“Each of the Malfoys has an airtight alibi. Lucius and Draco were in the manor, and we’ve traced their magic signatures – they didn’t leave. And  _you_  were with Narcissa Malfoy on the day Ginny disappeared.  _You_  took her to Diagon Alley, Harry.”  
  
Harry jumped out of his chair so quickly he knocked it on the floor. “I know!” he yelled, his voice rough with anger. “I know! But Kingsley, they’ve got Ginny. Who else would want to hurt me?”  
  
Kingsley sighed and counted to thirty before responding. “Maybe Ginny’s disappearance has nothing to do with you. It could be a crazed Harpies fan; the Harpies have always had trouble with stalkers.”  
  
“No! I  _know_  she’s at Malfoy Manor,” Harry said, pacing Kingsley’s office. “I’ll find her, and then chuck them in Azkaban where they belong! Where they should be!” He left Kingsley’s office and slammed the door behind him, presumably off to search for Ginny in Wiltshire yet again.  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_September 8, 2001: unknown time  
Malfoy Manor, the Dungeons  
  
Okay, Ginny, you had your freak out time, now it’s time to concentrate and think about where you are. What do you know?  
  
One. It’s dark. You can’t cast_  Lumos.  _Don’t obsess over how dark it is, Ginny. You’re a big girl. You’ve been in the dark without a light plenty of times. You can do this.  
  
Two. You’re in a stone room. How big is the room? _  
  
Ginny sat up and promptly hit her head on the ceiling. “Oww!”  
  
The ceiling hadn’t been that low yesterday, had it? No. It couldn’t have been. She’d sat up plenty of times without banging her head.  
  
After rubbing her sore forehead, Ginny stretched her arms out – cautiously this time – feeling for the walls. Her fingers touched damp, rough stone before she’d straightened her elbows, and she bit back a cry.  
  
_The room wasn’t this small last time! What’s going on? Where am I?  
  
“LUMOS! LUMOS!” _ She screamed the spell so loudly her voice echoed off the walls.  
  
_Please Merlin, please, let me have some light. And food._  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_September 10, 2001: 9:00 a.m.  
Malfoy Manor, the Morning Room_  
  
“Do you think Potter will bother us today?”  
  
“How could he not? He’s laboring under the illusion that we’re hiding his fiancée somewhere.” Narcissa arched one pale eyebrow as she looked at her husband. “Poor fool,” she said and laughed.  
  
Lucius admired how her face lit up when she laughed, and knew again that he’d made the right choice to help Narcissa. They hadn’t had one single argument and she hadn’t had one single sleepless night since Pansy had delivered Weasley to their dungeons.  
  
He was even excited about the prospect of breaking and molding the girl to suit his wife’s plan. He hadn’t had such an opportunity since the first war, when the Dark Lord had directed Lucius to use his talent with the Imperious Curse to control Ministry employees.  
  
Narcissa noticed her husband’s eyes shift from light to dark grey, and she smiled. She knew what Lucius was thinking about – and knew that he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off the girl. She didn’t mind, though; she’d  _planned_  on that happening.  
  
She reached across the table for her husband’s hand. “Just a little longer, love,” she said, and then frowned when she heard the door alarm ring.  
  
Lucius squeezed his wife’s hand. “Just a little longer, love,” he repeated, and winked.   
  


*     *     *

  
  
_September 10, 2001: unknown time  
Malfoy Manor, the Dungeons_  
  
The first thing Ginny noticed when she woke this time was that the room was freezing.  
  
Then she realized she was  _naked._  
  
_Oh fuck._  
  
She felt around for her Quidditch uniform, hoping that some scrap of her jumper or robe remained in the little room, but didn’t find anything.  
  
But her fingers did brush against a plate, and momentarily forgetting the cold and her nudity, Ginny grabbed it and held the plate under her chin. With one hand she shoveled food – bits of meat and bread – into her mouth, trying to sate her cramping hunger pains. She couldn’t remember how long it had been since she’d last eaten – it had been days, surely, since she’d last found food in her cell.  
  
Only when she finished gulping down the meat and bread did Ginny stop to think.  
  
_You idiot! What if that was poisoned? What if you DIE in this stone cellar, where nobody knows where you are?_  
  
She tossed the metal plate across the room angrily and heard it  _ping_  off the opposite wall, which sounded farther away than before. When Ginny reached her arm out she didn’t feel stone, and knew that the size of the cell had changed again.  
  
_What the hell is going on in this place?_  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_September 10, 2001: 2:00 p.m.  
Malfoy Manor, Narcissa’s Study_  
  
“Plinky!”  
  
The house-elf Apparated into Narcissa’s study with a light crack and bowed. “Yes, Mistress?”  
  
“How is our new guest?”  
  
“Plinky is watching her carefully. She is crying often in her sleep. Talking, too, Mistress.”  
  
Narcissa swiftly turned to the mirror on the wall behind her; she could see any room in the manor with its magic. “Show me the lower dungeon,” she ordered, and the mirror’s silver surface fizzled to opaque black.  
  
_“Please George!”  
  
“Please, not the dark!”  
  
“Put the light back!”  
  
“Please Fred!”  
  
“I’m scared!” _  
  
Narcissa chuckled softly as the mirror played the girl’s words back to her. It appeared that Ginevra was scared of the dark; with an absent thought, she wondered what the girl would be like after another week locked in the pitch-black cell.  
  
Oh, this was going even better than she’d expected.  
  
“Plinky, continue to give her salty food and water dosed with sleeping potion for the next week.”  
  
The house-elf bowed again, shivering at the sinister smile on his mistress’s face. He didn’t know what his masters were up to, but he would be a  _good_  elf. “Yes, Mistress.”  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_September 10, 2001: unknown time  
Malfoy Manor, the Dungeons  
  
The sun was shining on the lake, Harry’s arms were around her, and his lips were soft on hers. Ginny sighed happily; she wanted this day to last forever. It was perfect and timeless, and though she knew Harry would be going off to fight Voldemort soon, for now he was all hers.  
  
“Harry?”  
  
“Yes, Ginny?” he said, and his eyes were bright when he looked at her. “What?” _  
  
“Harry? Harry? HARRY!”  
  
Ginny screamed her boyfriend’s name over and over until her throat ached. There was no sun, no lake, and definitely no Harry.  
  
_Come on, Ginny, you’re stronger than this. Just hold it together, and Harry will find you.  
  
No he won’t.  
  
Yes he will! He loves you silly girl, he won’t rest until he finds you.  
  
Be strong, Ginny. Time to think again.  
  
What do you know? _  
  
“One. It’s dark,” she said, and regretted it almost immediately. Her throat and mouth were so dry she felt as though she’d sucked on a lemon earlier.  
  
_And don’t think about the dark; you can’t change that. Don’t panic again. Don’t, Ginny._  
  
“Two. I’m thirsty,” she rasped.  
  
_Clang._  
  
Ginny jumped in shock. “Who’s there? Hello? Who’s there!”  
  
There was no answer.  
  
Carefully, she felt around on the floor, and gasped in shock when her fingers dipped into a cup of water.  
  
_Can someone_  hear  _me?_  
  
Pushing the thought from her mind for the moment, Ginny held the cup to her mouth and drank greedily, slaking her thirst. The cool liquid felt like heaven to her dry tongue, and far too quickly the water was gone.  
  
_Back to planning, Ginny._  
  
“Three. I’m cold.”  
  
Putting the cup back on the floor, Ginny curled up, pulling her knees to her chest to try and generate some body heat. What she wouldn’t give for some clothes, or at least a blanket … she waited hopefully for the cell to provide one, but on this it didn’t cooperate.  
  
_You’ve been cold before! Remember that Harpies game in the blizzard? The worst blizzard of the winter, zero visibility, and the game went on anyway. You shivered so much you could barely keep on your broom. Just imagine you’re playing in that weather again._  
  
“Four. The room size keeps changing.”  
  
_Okay, so that means you must be somewhere that has powerful magic, right? Rooms aren’t easy things to Transfigure; McGonagall taught you that._  
  
“Five —” she yawned, blinking back drowsiness. All of a sudden she felt sleepy and warm, and then her eyelids were closing….  
  
_Oh Merlin, the water was drugged!_  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_September 14, 2001: 10:00 a.m.  
Malfoy Manor, Draco’s Bedroom_  
  
“You’ve been sleeping much better lately, darling.”  
  
Draco nodded tightly; he hated having to rely on potions to sleep, but they were better than the alternative. “Thank you, Mother; I appreciate that you and Father make potions for me. I know you don’t like going to Diagon Alley these days, especially in Potter’s … company.”  
  
Narcissa laughed lightly. “You know I’d do anything for you, my love.” She stepped forward and gave her son a quick hug. “But enough of that for now. Have you finalized your travel plans?”  
  
Draco reached for a parchment scroll on his desk. “I have,” he said, unfurling the rolled paper. “Father recommended that I read  _L’Histoire des Malfoys,_ and visit some areas that have been important to our family history.”  
  
His mother nodded. “That’s an excellent idea. What areas did you pick?”  
  
“To start, the régions of Auvergne and Aquitaine. Grandfather wrote that the Malfoy family is descended from the counts of Auvergne, and that wizards controlled the région until Catherine de’ Medici inherited the province in the early 1500s.” Draco tapped the scroll against his hand as he spoke. “As for Aquitaine, well, isn’t the female line of your family directly descended from Ailénor d’Aquitaine?”  
  
Narcissa smiled at her son’s animated behavior, pleased to see he was finally excited about something. He’d always had a fondness for history – especially anything concerning his ancestors. “Yes, and I encourage you to look into your Black family roots as well, Draco. You know my family motto –  _Toujours Pur_  – in Aquitaine, there are wizarding monuments explaining why we took that axiom even when purebloods were the only acknowledged wizards. Bellatrix —” Narcissa’s voice faltered, and Draco saw her eyes were glassy. “Bella and I saw the statues on  _our_  Grand Tour.”  
  
“I’ll make sure I find them, Mother,” Draco said softly, and her face brightened.  
  
“Right then,” Narcissa said crisply. “I received an owl yesterday with the details of your Portkey. You’ll have to Floo to the Ministry on the 21st, and go to the Department of Magical Transport to pick up the Portkey. I’m told our fireplaces will be reconnected to the Floo Network sometime that morning, so you should plan to leave in the afternoon, darling.”  
  
“Yes, Mother,” he said, rolling his eyes, and she laughed again.  
  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_September 16, 2001: unknown time  
Malfoy Manor, the Dungeons_  
  
Her mouth felt like cotton again, a sign that she’d fallen asleep from drugged water.  
  
Then the smell of meat tickled her nose, and Ginny cried out in frustration. The last few cycles of sleeping and waking had been miserable: she woke with either food or water in her cell, and the water always put her to sleep.  
  
Ginny had the choice to eat or not to eat, to drink or not to drink, but when faced with a growling stomach or a dry mouth, it wasn’t much of a choice. She remembered starving for days the first time she’d turned her nose up at food, and she didn’t want to go through that again.  
  
The sleeping potion in the water also helped combat the constant coldness of the cell; sometimes it was  _almost_  a relief to drink, just to feel  _warm_  before she slipped into a drugged oblivion.  
  
She groped around blindly for the metal plate, finding it once again on the floor. Reluctantly she ate, trying to ignore the thirst that grew with each bite of salty meat.  
  
“Water?” she croaked, and waited to see if it would show up. Sometimes a cup appeared immediately and sometimes it didn’t.  
  
_Clang._  
  
With a sob, Ginny grabbed the cup, took a drink of water, and waited for sleep to come.  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_September 17, 2001: 9:00 a.m.  
Malfoy Manor, the Foyer_  
  
“Do come in, Mr. Potter,” Lucius drawled. He wasn’t surprised to see the boy at his door yet again; Potter still hadn’t given up his misguided belief that the Malfoys had kidnapped his fiancée.  
  
Harry tripped over the doorstep when he walked into the entryway, and Lucius saw that the boy’s green eyes were bloodshot. He smirked to himself, but kept any trace of his smile from his face. It wouldn’t do to give Potter anything else to be suspicious about.  
  
“Dungeons,” Harry mumbled. “I know you have dungeons, I want to see them. Now!”  
  
“I’m sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Potter, but there are no dungeons in the manor,” Narcissa said smoothly. “Only the cellar under the drawing room, which you … visited during the war.”  
  
Harry snorted in disbelief. “You’re lying. You’re a lot of disgusting perverts – you’ve got to have dungeons in this dismal place.”  
  
Lucius’s lips drew back in a thin line, his previous good humor forgotten. “Do  _not_  call my wife a liar  _or_ a pervert, Potter.”  
  
“I’ll call her whatever I bloody like!”  
  
“Lucius, the boy’s upset. I’m sure he doesn’t know what he’s saying,” Narcissa said icily. “Mr. Potter, I will repeat myself since you didn’t hear me the first time. There are no dungeons here. Binky will be happy to show you the cellar, however.”  
  
The house-elf Apparated into the foyer and bowed, the top of his forehead touching the marble floor. “Yes, Mistress?”  
  
“Show  _Mr._ Potter to the cellar under the drawing room, please.”  
  
“Right this way, Sir!”  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_September 17, 2001: 3:00 p.m.  
The Ministry of Magic, the Minister’s Office_  
  
“Harry, did you go to Malfoy Manor again today?”  
  
“Yes,” Harry said shortly, glaring at Kingsley. “So? I’ll find her, it’s just a matter of time.”  
  
Kingsley shook his head and sighed. “Harry, another team of Aurors has been working on Ginny’s case. They’ve found evidence that she was taken from the Harpies game for sure – they’ve found her uniform, Harry.”  
  
“What?” Harry blinked. “Where?”  
  
“Gloucestershire, just outside of Tutshill. That’s where the last Harpies game was, against the Tutshill Tornadoes. Dawlish and Savage found her robes outside of the stadium.”  
  
“You’re sure they found Ginny’s robes, and not someone else’s?  
  
Kingsley sighed. “Yes, Harry, we’re sure. The robes are the Holyhead Harpies style, in dark green, with a gold talon on the chest, and they have Ginny’s name and number on the back. They also found an old Gryffindor Quidditch jumper with the robes….”  
  
He stood and rose from behind his desk, and walked around to where Harry was sitting. Putting his hands on the younger man’s shoulders he said softly, “Harry, it’s time for you to accept the fact that the Malfoys are innocent. Someone else took Ginny – you’re wasting time focusing so heavily on the Malfoys —”  
  
Harry shook off Kingsley’s comforting hands and said angrily, “They aren’t! I know they aren’t. They want to get back at me – I made their lives a living hell for three years, and they took Ginny to get revenge on  _me!_ ”  
  
“Merlin’s balls, Harry! You need to quit thinking like that. I’ve let you continue on this single-minded track because I know you’re upset about Ginny, but you can’t keep acting like this!” Kingsley started to pace, his purple robes swirling as he walked back and forth across his office.  
  
“Everyone thought I was wrong about Draco  _Malfoy_  back in sixth year.  _I_  said he was a Death Eater, and everyone else said ‘no, Voldemort would never want a sixteen-year-old.’ And who was right? ME!” Harry stormed out of the Minister’s office, violently slamming the door behind him.  
  
Kingsley ran a hand over his bare head and sighed.  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_September 21, 2001: 9:00 a.m.  
Malfoy Manor, the Master Suite_  
  
“Master!”  
  
Lucius stared blearily at the house-elf standing beside the bed and mumbled, “What, Binky?”  
  
“Master! You is telling Binky to wake you today! At nine o’ clock, Master!” The elf stared at his long toes, wiggling them nervously against the plushly carpeted floor.  
  
The elf’s words penetrated Lucius’s sleepy brain, and a grin blossomed on his face as he realized what day it was. He got out of bed, put on one heavy boot, and then, still smiling, aimed a savage kick at the house-elf.  
  
Binky sailed through the air and hit the opposite wall with a loud screech. He slid down the wall, head first, and landed in a moaning heap.  
  
Lucius heard his wife stir, roused by Binky’s cries, and turned to frown at the whimpering house-elf. “Go iron your ears or something, elf. You woke my wife with your infernal racket.”  
  
“Yes, Master!” Binky said squeakily, and then disappeared with a loud  _crack._  
  
“Was that really necessary?”  
  
Lucius turned to Narcissa and drawled, “I had to celebrate somehow, didn’t I? Besides, those elves need to learn that their peaceful days are over.”  
  
“Come back to bed,” his wife said, peering up at him through her eyelashes. “There are  _much_  better ways to celebrate our freedom.”  
  
“Mmm,” Lucius agreed, his mind jumping to the girl in the dungeons below them. He was eager to see what two weeks of darkness and no human contact had done to her; he wondered how much work he’d have left to do.  
  
Lucius took the elf-kicking boot off and slipped back into bed. He’d just pulled his wife close, one hand playing with the hem of her silk chemise, when —  
  
_Crack._  
  
“Master? There … is a man … wanting to see Master and Mistress.” Binky tugged his long ears nervously, obviously frightened to be back in Lucius’ presence so soon after being kicked.  
  
“What. Are. You. Blabbering. About. Elf.” Lucius angrily spat out each word, and Binky cringed, pulling his ears over his bulging green eyes.  
  
“Binky thinks it is being the Potter b—” The house-elf’s words cut off when he went flying through the air again, less viciously since Lucius didn’t bother to put on his boot this time.  
  
“Stop that, Lucius!” Narcissa snapped, and he looked to see his wife glaring at him, her eyes a dark, angry blue. “Get rid of the brat, and then get back up here to finish what you started.”  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_September 21, 2001: 9:30 a.m.  
Malfoy Manor, the Foyer_  
  
“What do you want, Potter?” Lucius made no effort to hide his anger, and the vitriol in his tone surprised Harry.  
  
“I – I came to look for Ginny.”  
  
Lucius sneered in the boy’s face. “You won’t be coming in today, Potter. Today is the 21st of September, and our house arrest is over. That means I can do  _this_ ” – Lucius slammed the door in Harry’s face – “with no repercussions,” he finished, smirking in triumph.  
  
“Elf! Make sure Potter doesn’t try to get in any other way – he’s determined enough to try to dig a hole in the yard or something equally absurd.”  
  
Binky pressed his head to the floor, bowing again, but Lucius was already past the elf; he was taking the stairs two at a time to get back to his bedroom – and his wife.  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_September 21, 2001: 1:00 p.m.  
Malfoy Manor, the Drawing Room_  
  
“Did you have the elves pack extra sleeping potions?”  
  
“Yes, Mother,” Draco said tiredly. She’d already asked about every other item he could possibly want to take on his trip, and he’d dutifully replied ‘yes’ to each. “I have everything I could ever need, and I can always buy anything I forgot.”  
  
“I know, darling,” Narcissa said softly, stepping forward to embrace her son.  
  
Lucius chuckled. “You have to excuse your mother, Draco; you know she’s sad at the thought of you leaving for months and months.”  
  
Draco sighed dramatically. “Oh Mum, you’ve been talking about this trip forever – I thought you’d be excited the day’s finally here.”  
  
“I am,” she said, hugging him again; Draco looked at his father over her shoulder, and Lucius shrugged.  
  
_‘You know how she is,’_ Lucius mouthed to him.  
  
“Mother, I’d better go,” Draco said after another minute had passed and she showed no signs of letting go. “I don’t want to miss the Portkey.”  
  
Narcissa nodded and let go with one last squeeze. “Of course. Have a good trip, darling,” she sniffled.  
  
Draco pinched a handful of Floo powder from the blue glass vase on the mantelpiece and tossed it into the fire. The flames turned green, Draco stepped into the fireplace, and vanished.  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_September 21, 2001: unknown time  
Malfoy Manor, the Dungeons_  
  
When she woke this time, Ginny  _knew_  something was different.  
  
Oh, the cell was still as dark as a moonless night, but that had ceased to bother her. Now the dark was a comforting friend, because it was the  _one_  thing that didn’t change or hurt her.  
  
The room was still freezing, and her body was covered in tiny goose bumps, and as she rubbed her hands over her arms, Ginny realized just what was different.  
  
_She was_  clean.  
  
_Someone had touched her while she slept._  
  
Suddenly frightened, Ginny huddled against the wall, pushing her back into the corner.  
  
_This can’t be good … I’ve been filthy the whole time I’ve been here … why clean me up now?_  
  
Although it had made her uneasy at first, she’d gotten used to someone – or something – entering the cell while she was asleep from the water. The waste she left in the farthest corner was always gone when she woke – but she had never been touched before.  
  
She’d always been left dirty and grimy … but now her skin felt soft and smooth and  _clean,_ and she could even smell a hint of berries and vanilla.  
  
_Tap._  
  
That was something she’d never heard before in this room.  
  
_Tap. Tap._  
  
The sound was moving closer. “W-who’s there?” Ginny called nervously. She cocked her head and listened carefully, trying to figure out where the tapping was coming from.  
  
_Crunch. Tap. Tap._  
  
“H-hello?”  
  
Again, there was no answer. Ginny’s heart thumped wildly, and she wondered if the unknown person could hear it.  
  
“W-w-ho’s th—”  
  
Ginny screeched when she was yanked from her corner and thrust into the air by magic. She punched out her arms and kicked her feet, trying to hit whoever had cast the spell on her, but she didn’t hit anything – or anyone.  
  
“ _Incarcerous,_ ” a voice drawled softly in the darkness, and Ginny felt ropes fasten around her wrists and ankles.  
  
She  _knew_  that voice.  
  
_‘We’ll split into pairs and search, and don’t forget, be gentle with Potter until we’ve got the prophecy, you can kill the others if necessary—’_  
  
Ginny’s heart was beating even more frantically now, and her mouth was dry from fear.  
  
_She was in_  Malfoy Manor.  
  
_Tap. Tap._  
  
She could hear the rustling of cloth now, silk swishing against velvet, and knew that he was close to her. “W-what do you want, Malfoy?”  
  
He didn’t reply. The sound of his footsteps grew louder yet, and Ginny thought he was circling her. The thought of him leering at her naked body, even though the cell was dark, made her sick to her stomach.  
  
_What would Harry do, Ginny? Be brave. Be strong._  
  
Ginny swallowed her panic and yelled, “I SAID, WHAT DO YOU WANT MALFOY?”  
  
“Tut-tut. Didn’t your mother teach you manners?” Ginny tried to jerk back when his hand touched her face, one finger stroking her cheek, but the magic and ropes held her immobile in the air. “Clearly not. But then, I wouldn’t expect blood traitors to  _have_  manners.”  
  
“Don’t talk about —”  
  
_Whap._  
  
Ginny’s head whipped back from the force of the slap, and she bit her lip to keep from crying out.  
  
“You speak only when I say you do,” Lucius said in her ear, his hot breath sending a cold shiver down her spine. “Have you enjoyed your stay here so far?”  
  
In response, Ginny spat in what she thought was his direction, and he chuckled. “Maybe I should have left you alone for another month,” Lucius said offhandedly, and her stomach plummeted.  
  
_She’d been here a_  month?  _Why hadn’t Harry found her? Had something happened to him, too?_  
  
“Thinking about your boyfriend? I don’t think he cares about you, Ginevra; he hasn’t come by, not even once, to look for you.”  
  
_Harry hadn’t searched Malfoy Manor to find her? That was impossible. She knew how much time he’d spent harassing the Malfoys over the last three years. He’d have brought a pack of Aurors to comb every inch of the place until they found her.  
  
No. She couldn’t believe anything Malfoy said. _  
  
Lucius grabbed a handful of her hair, tugging her head back, so he could whisper in her ear, “And that’s too bad for you, Ginevra. Because it’s his fault you’re here. If he hadn’t bothered my family so much … well, you wouldn’t be here.”  
  
“You’re sick,” she sputtered, and he pulled her hair so hard Ginny thought her neck would snap.  
  
“I told you not to speak,” Lucius reminded her. “I know you think yourself a rebel – I heard about how troublesome you were for the Carrows – but defiance will only bring you pain here.” He let go of her hair finally and her head slumped forward.  
  
A second later his thumb and forefinger found her chin and he forced her head up, so that she was staring straight ahead into nothingness —  
  
_“Lumos.”  
  
“Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!” _  
  
Ginny screamed in pain as light appeared in front of her face, directly in front of eyes that had become accustomed to the absolute darkness of her cell. White-hot stars burst behind her eyelids as she closed them, trying to block out the light, but it was too bright.  
  
Lucius’s hold on her chin kept her from looking away from his blazing wand, and though she tried to wrench her face from his grasp, he was too strong. “PLEASE STOP!” she bawled, tears running down her cheeks.  
  
Ginny’s cries increased in volume and intensity as he continued to force her to stare at the light. She couldn’t see the sadistic smile on his face as he watched her writhe against the bindings and his hand, trying to free herself so she could get away from the blinding wand.  
  
“ _Nox,_ ” Lucius incanted finally, tiring of the spectacle, and Ginny sobbed in relief as the light faded and the comforting darkness returned. “What do you say?”  
  
She tiredly raised her head, and Lucius was pleased to hear a spark of insolence in her voice when she shouted, “Fuck you, Malfoy!”  
  
Excellent. He had hoped she would be a challenge to break.  
  
“Tut-tut,” he said again. Lucius swished his wand in the precise way to create a ball of light, and then levitated the orb until it was hovering in front of her face. Ginny screamed anew when the light hit her already throbbing eyes.  
  
“Please! I’m sorry!” she wailed, her resistance instantly crushed by the piercing pain, and Lucius smirked.  
  
“Manners are everything, Ginevra,” he said loudly over her shrieks, and left her to her torment.  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_September 21, 2001: 9:00 p.m.  
Malfoy Manor, Narcissa’s Study_  
  
“How did it go?” Narcissa asked, looking up a parchment scroll when Lucius walked into the room.  
  
“Look for yourself,” he said, and took a seat in one of the leather armchairs in front of her ebony wood desk.  
  
Narcissa turned to the mirror hanging on the wall behind her and commanded, “Show me the lower dungeon.” The mirror instantly shifted from silver to bright white, and she shielded her eyes until the light faded to a comfortable level.  
  
_“PLEASE TURN IT OFF!”  
  
“PLEASE!”  
  
“NOX! NOX!” _  
  
Ginny’s screams echoed off the walls, and Narcissa immediately flicked her wand at the mirror. “ _Quietus._ ” The volume of the girl’s wails decreased, and Narcissa eyed her husband. “You could have warned me,” she said dryly.  
  
“What would the fun in that be? This was your idea, after all,” Lucius drawled, idly twirling his wand in his fingers.  
  
“True,” she acknowledged. “Did you enjoy yourself?”  
  
“Quite,” he said, canting his hips toward his wife so she could see the hardness in his trousers.  
  
Narcissa smirked at her husband. “And I thought you didn’t want to touch her. I’ll have to watch next time … I’ve missed watching you do what you do best, my love.” She nodded toward the pile of griffin and quintaped furs in front of the fire, and licked her lips.  
  
Lucius took the hint and rose smoothly, stalking toward her, a lascivious smile lighting his face. He reached for his wife and cradled her in his arms; he carried her to the fireplace and then laid her down gently on the heap of gold and red-brown furs. Narcissa pulled him down on top of her, wrapping her arms around his neck and hungrily devouring his mouth.  
  
The two fucked on the floor of her study, surrounded by the crackling of the flames and Ginny’s hushed cries. When Narcissa screamed in climax so did Ginny, as the light and levitation spells finally extinguished, sending her crashing to the stone floor.  
  
  


*     *     *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic was written for the 2010 round of [hp_darkfest](https://hp-darkfest.livejournal.com/). The prompt was:
> 
>  _I'll find a day to massacre them all,_  
>  And raze their faction and their family,  
> The cruel father and his traitorous sons,  
> To whom I sued for my dear son's life;  
> And make them know, what 't is to let a queen  
> Kneel in the streets and beg for grace in vain.  
> \- William Shakespeare [Tamora, Titus Andronicus]
> 
> Come visit me on [tumblr!](http://galacticcoyote.tumblr.com/)


	3. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Harry Potter_ is not mine and no profit is made from this work. Written for the LJ community [hp_darkfest](https://hp-darkfest.livejournal.com/). See end notes for more information.

## Three:  
  
_‘A stratagem, which, cunningly effected, will beget a very excellent piece of villainy.’_  
  
*     *     *

  
  
_September 22, 2001: unknown time  
Malfoy Manor, the Dungeons_  
  
Ginny woke with a groan, and her first thought was that  _everything_  hurt.  
  
She was still lying where she’d fallen when she’d passed out, in a heap in the middle of the cell. Her face was pressed against the grimy floor, and, when she tried to sit up, she found that her wrists and ankles were still tied.  
  
Cautiously, she cracked open one eye, ready to shut it at the barest hint of light, but the cell was dark. She was surprisingly thankful for this – her eyes felt like they’d been rubbed with sandpaper.  
  
Ginny stretched her bound arms out, searching for the nearest wall. She felt unsafe lying in the middle of the room and wanted her back to something. She started dragging herself along the floor, moving slowly because of her bound hands and feet, but before long she bumped against stone. The room must have changed sizes again while she slept.  
  
Pressing her back into the corner, Ginny tried to think about what to do next. She knew where she was now – Malfoy Manor – but knowing that didn’t change anything.  
  
_Malfoy said I’ve been here a month … that can’t be right. Surely Harry would have found me by now.  
  
Harry’s searched this place almost every day for the past three years. He knows every inch of this house. He’ll find me. I know he will. _  
  
But doubt crept into her stomach as she remembered Malfoy’s words.  
  
_“He hasn’t come by, not even once, to look for you.”_  
  
Ginny swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. No. She couldn’t believe anything that bastard said. He had  _kidnapped_  her! She couldn’t trust him. Not at all.  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_September 25, 2001: 11:30 p.m.  
London, Harry’s Flat  
  
“HARRY!”  
  
He looked around wildly – that had been_  Ginny’s  _voice. Where was she? She_  needed  _him!  
  
But the room was dark – he couldn’t see anything. Harry grabbed his wand from his back pocket. _ “Lumos!”  _The tip of the wand flared with light, and he waved his wand around, looking for any sign of his fiancée.  
  
“Please Harry!” _  
  
“GINNY!”  
  
Harry sat bolt upright in bed, his heart racing. He looked around, hoping against hope he was in the stone room he had just dreamt about, but all he saw were the cream colored walls of his bedroom.  
  
Ginny  _needed_  him to save her, and where was he? At home in his flat, safe in bed.  
  
He had to find Ginny. He knew where she was –  _knew_  the Malfoys had her. Kingsley thought he was a fool, but Harry knew.  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_September 26, 2001: 9:00 a.m.  
The Ministry of Magic, the Minister’s Office_  
  
“Hey, Kingsley.”  
  
“Hello, Harry.”  
  
“Can I come in please? I’d like to talk to you.”  
  
Kingsley waved Harry into his office and sat down behind his desk. “What did you want to talk about?”  
  
Harry looked the other man in the eye, and Kingsley noticed that Harry’s eyes were bloodshot yet again. “I wanted to talk about Ginny’s … case. Did Dawlish and Savage find anything else?”  
  
Kingsley’s eyebrow arched; he’d expected Harry to launch straight into another tirade about how the Malfoys had taken his fiancée. “They have not,” he said slowly. “They have been interviewing people that were at the game, and the staff at the stadium, but they haven’t found any new leads.” He heard Harry sigh, and said, “We’ll find her, Harry. Everyone here wants to find her just as much as you do. Now, is there anything else?”  
  
“I – I wanted to talk to you about searching Malfoy Manor again.”  
  
Kingsley sighed tiredly. There it was. “Harry, can you explain to me just why you are so certain the Malfoys took Ginny?” Maybe if he worked through the  _impossibility_  of such a thing with the boy, Harry would come to his senses.  
  
“Er, well don’t you find it suspicious that Draco Malfoy got a Portkey for France the day his house arrest ended?”  
  
“No, I don’t. His mother wrote me a letter about a year ago, asking if it would be alright if Draco departed on his Grand Tour when their sentence was over.” Kingsley shrugged. “It’s still the custom for the older families to send their children to tour the Wizarding world. It’s not suspicious, Harry. It’s tradition. What else?”  
  
“Er … Draco and I have hated each other since the moment we met on the first train ride to Hogwarts,” Harry rushed on. “It got worse over the years … especially sixth year. I was the only one who suspected him of being a Death Eater, and I was right!”  
  
Kingsley folded his hands on his lap and leaned back in his chair. “Harry, just because you and Draco dislike each other, doesn’t give him reason to kidnap Ginny. As for his Death Eater status – he’s been cleared. I don’t think he had much choice on taking the Dark Mark and he certainly regretted it by the end of the war.”  
  
Harry smacked his hand on Kingsley’s desk. “I don’t care if he regretted it! He’s still a slimy git, and I know he wants to get back at me!”  
  
“Why does he want to get back at you?”  
  
“I rubbed it in his face. About his family and how far they fell after the war. I searched their house all the time, but I mean, who would believe the  _Malfoys_  really gave up their beliefs? They’re still Voldemort-loving scum. And then his father tried to kill Ginny back in her second year … it all adds up, Kingsley!”  
  
This wasn’t going the way Kingsley had hoped it would. Harry was clearly unable to think rationally when it came to the Malfoys – and Ginny.  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_September 26, 2001: 7:00 p.m.  
Malfoy Manor, the Dining Room_  
  
“When were you planning on going to the girl again?”  
  
Lucius swallowed a bite of pheasant before replying, “I was thinking of tonight. I wanted to let her fear build for a few days before going back.” He stabbed another forkful of meat and asked, “Why?”  
  
“I want to watch this time.” Narcissa fluttered her eyelashes at Lucius, and he smirked at her.  
  
“After dessert then?”  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_September 26, 2001: unknown time  
Malfoy Manor, the Dungeons_  
  
She smelled berries and vanilla when she woke, and her mouth went dry with fear.  
  
The last time she’d been clean,  _he_  had come.  
  
Ginny backed into her corner, ears straining for the sound of his shoes against the stone floor.  
  
The last few days had been almost normal.  
  
_Right, Ginny, because ‘normal’ is being kidnapped, trapped in a cell, and left in the dark for days.  
  
Oh Merlin, I hope Harry comes soon. I can’t take this much longer.  
  
Tap. Tap. _  
  
Her head jerked in the direction of the sounds. Her heart started to pound, thumping in her chest as the footsteps continued to come closer and closer.  
  
_Tap. Tap._  
  
“Where’s my blood traitor hiding today?”  
  
Ginny pressed her back desperately against the stone, trying to blend in to the wall.  
  
“You can’t hide from me,” Lucius drawled, walking slowly toward the corner Ginny was in. He knew each  _tap, tap_  increased her fear; it was delicious to listen as her breathing became faster and faster.  
  
He stopped in front of her and nudged her shin with the toe of his boot.  
  
“What should I do with you today? Would you like some light, Ginevra?” Each word was accompanied by another tap on her leg; she whimpered when he said ‘light.’ Lucius smiled and pulled his wand from his robes and cast a non-verbal  _Lumos._  
  
Ginny threw her head back when his wand sizzled to life in front of her eyes, and then yelped in pain when her head hit the wall with a loud  _crack._  
  
Lucius laughed, a sinister sound that froze the hair on the back of Ginny’s neck. “Don’t like it? I would think you’d be grateful for some light after so long in the darkness.”  
  
“I – I like the dark,” she said, and was pleased when her voice didn’t falter.  
  
“Oh you do? I thought you were scared of the dark….” His words took on a mocking tone as he imitated her,  _“Pwweasee, not the dark! P-p-put the liiight back!”_  
  
Ginny’s stomach plummeted. How did he know she was scared of the dark?  
  
_Had he been_  watching  _her?_  
  
She could just make out a smirk on his face in the wand light, and felt even sicker. He was  _enjoying_ this, the sick bastard!  
  
“I’m not scared,” she insisted.  
  
“You will be,” he threatened, “maybe not of the dark – not anymore – but you will be scared, Ginevra.”  
  
“Of what?” She lifted her chin defiantly and stared at him, even though the wand light burned her eyes.  
  
_You’re doing fine, Ginny. Just keep it up. Harry would be proud of you._  
  
Lucius suddenly grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked Ginny roughly to her feet. “Of me,” he growled and then shoved her away. Ginny fell, face first, but managed to catch herself with her hands before her face smacked against the floor. He brutally kicked her in the ribs, and then her head did hit the stone with a sickening  _smack._  
  
“ _Accio_  cane,” Luicus said; a second later, Ginny felt the metal and wood stick slash against the bare skin of her arse. She shrieked and tried to scramble away, but there was nowhere to run. Lucius relentlessly stalked her around the cell, following her with the lit wand the snake-headed cane.  
  
“Silly girl,” he drawled when he trapped her in a corner. “You can’t run from me.” He pointed his wand at her and whispered a spell; Ginny felt herself float into the air and her nostrils flared in panic. Last time she’d been in the air, he’d left her there until she passed out.  
  
Lucius swished and flicked his wand until the girl was arranged in the air as he wanted, with her toes a few inches above the floor and her back bowed, as if she were bent over a desk. He let her struggle for a bit, twisting in the air, but she couldn’t escape the position he’d put her in.  
  
“Now you’re going to learn to fear me, Ginevra.”  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_September 26, 2001: 11:00 p.m.  
Malfoy Manor, Narcissa’s Study_  
  
When he walked into his wife’s study, Lucius saw that she was staring intently at her mirror, watching Ginny as the girl cried herself to sleep.  
  
“Did you get what you needed, darling?”  
  
Narcissa turned from the mirror and smiled at him, her eyes sparkling. “I did. There’s enough for at least a few dreams.”  
  
Lucius smirked. “Don’t be stingy with the misery, Narcissa. The girl isn’t going anywhere; I can always work her over again.” He went to his wife and pulled her into an embrace. “I do enjoy it more than I expected.”  
  
She tilted her head up and kissed him. “I knew you would, Lucius. She’s the epitome of everything we despise – it would be better only if she were a Mudblood, but I certainly don’t want one of those in the manor.”  
  
“No, no we don’t,” Lucius agreed. “Do I get to watch you work, now?”  
  
“If you want,” Narcissa said. Lucius let her go and she went to her desk. She sat down and removed a small mirror from the top drawer, and a marble Pensieve from a cabinet behind her. Lucius lounged on the leather sofa across from the desk and looked on Narcissa prepared the spell that would allow her to send nightmares.  
  
She started by pouring a crystal vial that contained her memories of Ginny’s torture into the Pensieve. Narcissa stirred the silver substance with her wand until the liquid gas swirled like a tornado, and then held the mirror over the Pensieve. Lucius could see her lips moving as she incanted a spell, but he couldn’t hear any words.  
  
He watched as images began to float from the Pensieve to the mirror. One was of Ginevra, mouth open in a scream, another was of her bleeding, welted arse, and a third was of her little dark cell. Each picture was carefully censored; Narcissa had removed all traces of her husband and his distinctive voice.  
  
When the Pensieve was completely empty, all the memories having vanished into the mirror, Narcissa put her wand down and ended the spell. “That should do for a few nights,” she said to her husband. “Then I’ll need more.”  
  
“It would be my pleasure,” Lucius said, a wicked gleam in his grey eyes.  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_September 27, 2001: 1:00 a.m.  
London, Harry’s Flat  
  
“Please don’t hurt me!”  
  
“Please I’ll be good!”  
  
“Aahhhhhhh!”  
  
“I’m coming, Ginny!”  
  
Harry sprinted down a long stone hallway, hurrying towards the sounds of his girlfriend’s screams. His heart raced faster and faster each time Ginny cried, and he cursed as the hallway kept getting longer.  
  
“HARRY! Help me!”  
  
“GINNY!” he bellowed, running even faster. His lungs ached, and his legs hurt, but that didn’t matter. He would find Ginny.  
  
He would.  
  
“Pleaseeee!” _  
  
Harry woke with a scream, covered in sweat and tangled in his sheets. He’d been so close to finding Ginny – he just knew it.  
  
He just needed to reach the end of the hallway, and she’d be there, waiting for him to rescue her.  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_October 6, 2001: 9:00 a.m.  
Malfoy Manor, the Morning Room_  
  
“Use this before you go to her today,” Narcissa said to her husband, and handed him a vial.  
  
Lucius tilted the vial and examined the gold potion inside of it. “What is it?”  
  
“Polyjuice.”  
  
“I thought we were going to wait for that step.”  
  
Narcissa shrugged her shoulders delicately. “I’ve been watching the girl – she isn’t breaking quickly enough. I want to get on with my part of the plan.”  
  
Lucius looked quizzically at his wife. “Are you sure, Narcissa? I thought you wanted to draw this out.”  
  
“I do,” she said. “But I want Potter to  _suffer,_ and he isn’t yet. I want him to feel the pain I felt for the last three years and more. I want to drive him to his breaking point and  _beyond._ ”  
  
“Very well,” Lucius said, pocketing the bottle of Polyjuice. “I’ll head down there now, then, if you want to watch in your mirror.”  
  
Narcissa pulled another vial from her robes. “I was thinking of watching – in person,” she said, her blue eyes gleaming.  
  
“Now  _that_  I would enjoy,” he said, and offered his arm to her.  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_October 6, 2001: unknown time  
Malfoy Manor, the Dungeons  
  
Scuff. Scuff. _  
  
Ginny snapped her head up when she heard the noise; she’d been dozing in her corner, replaying one of her last Quidditch games in her head to pass the time until the next dose of drugged water.  
  
_Scuff. Scrape._  
  
That didn’t sound like the  _tap, tap_  of Malfoy’s boots – and she hadn’t woken today to the smell of berries and vanilla. She rubbed her arms hurriedly, felt dirt under her fingertips, and was relieved.  
  
Malfoy wouldn’t touch her if she was dirty, so it couldn’t be him.  
  
_But if it isn’t Malfoy, then who is it?_  
  
Summoning her courage, Ginny called out, “W-who’s there?”  
  
“Ginny!”  
  
Her heart leapt at the sound of  _Harry’s_  voice.  
  
She heard a muttered, “ _Lumos,_ ” and saw a spot of light appear at the other end of the cell. Harry’s footsteps quickened as he ran toward her, and Ginny shielded her eyes as the light came nearer.  
  
Then his arms were around her, and she was crying into his shoulder, saying his name over and over. “I  _knew_  you’d find me, Harry. I knew it!”  
  
“I didn’t rest until I found you, Ginny,” he said, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “I’d do anything for you, you know that, don’t you?”  
  
“I never doubted you, Harry.”  
  
“Are you hurt?” Harry raised his wand to her face so he could look at her, and she shrank back from the painful light. He instantly tossed the wand to the floor, and she huddled against him again, burying her face in his chest.  
  
“It’s been so dark,” Ginny mumbled, “for so long.”  
  
“It’s okay, I’m going to get you out of here,” Harry said soothingly.  
  
“Harry, please just … hold me.”  
  
“I missed you so much,” he said softly, tightening his embrace and pulling her closer to him.  
  
Ginny melted into his arms, pressing desperately against him. She felt  _safe_  at last. “Touch me, Harry … I need to know you’re real.”  
  
He laid a gentle kiss on her forehead and ran his hands down her back. Ginny sighed in happiness from the feel of his hands –  _Harry’s hands_  – on her skin. “More,” she mewled, and his hands cupped her bottom, his fingers tracing over the welts on her skin.  
  
“Oh, Ginny,” he said sadly, “I’m so sorry.”  
  
“Shh. Later. Harry, I need to  _feel_  you.” The desperation in her voice surprised even her, and Ginny wondered where it had come from.  
  
_It doesn’t matter. Make sure he’s real. Make sure he isn’t a dream._  
  
They ended up in a sweaty heap on the floor, Harry’s mouth on her neck as his body thrust into hers. Her arms were wrapped around his back, her hands moving restlessly over his skin as she tried to remember every inch of him, every ridge of his ribs and bump of his spine.  
  
“Giiiinerva,” he moaned as his hips bucked, and she opened her eyes in horror.   
  
Harry  _never_  called her Ginevra.  
  
She shrieked as black hair turned to blond and green eyes lightened to grey.  
  
She closed her eyes and opened them again, hoping it was a nightmare, but the pale, pointed face of Lucius Malfoy was still above her.  
  
“No! No! NO!”  
  
“You were so happy to see me a minute ago, Ginevra,” Lucius sneered. “Couldn’t wait to get your hands on me.”  
  
Ginny fought frantically to get out from under him, away from his invading hips, but the weight of his body kept her trapped.  
  
_It’s just a nightmare, Ginny. You’re going to wake up in a minute and everything will be okay._  
  
She closed her eyes again and pinched her arm, hard. There. When she opened them, he’d be gone.  
  
“You can’t escape me that easily,” Lucius said silkily, and Ginny screamed.  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_October 7, 2001: 5:00 a.m.  
Malfoy Manor, the Gardens_  
  
Harry crept through the gardens, carefully avoiding the plots of poisonous plants and the trellises of carnivorous roses that bordered the section he was in. Fortunately, he had searched in these areas plenty of times before, and knew exactly where to step, even though it was still dark outside.  
  
Malfoy had turned him away last time, and had set a house-elf on him to make sure he didn’t come back, but this time Harry was prepared.  
  
He’d been good for the last few weeks, had obeyed Kingsley’s order to stay away from Wiltshire. He’d helped Dawlish and Savage in their investigation, had searched every inch of Gloucestershire and the Harpies stadium.  
  
Every night he’d been haunted by dreams of Ginny; he’d had to listen while she screamed for mercy and for Harry to rescue her.  
  
Today he’d prove them all wrong.  
  
Today he’d find Ginny.  
  
He sensed the first ward, a field of energy that circled the mansion. Harry pulled his wand out and set to work, trying every spell Bill had ever showed him.  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_October 7, 2001: 5:05 a.m.  
Malfoy Manor, the Master Suite_  
  
“Master!” Binky tugged desperately on Lucius’s hand, trying to wake him. “Master! Mistress! There is being an intruder! ”  
  
Lucius stared sleepily at the house-elf and then jolted awake when Binky’s words and the ringing alarms that were sounding throughout the mansion penetrated his brain.  
  
“Cissa,” he said urgently, turning to his wife who was looking at him blearily. “The wards – stay here.”  
  
“It’s probably just Potter,” she mumbled, “I think the poor boy had a  _very_  bad nightmare last night.” Narcissa closed her eyes and snuggled into the space Lucius had just vacated.  
  
“Elf! Did you check to see if it was the Potter brat before you woke me?”  
  
The way the elf pulled on his ears and wriggled his toes answered the question before Binky said, “N-no, Master.” He cringed and shrank back when Lucius stalked towards him, and then went flying through the air as his master kicked him in anger.  
  
At Binky’s cry, Narcissa opened her eyes and glared at her husband. “Quit with the elves, at least until later. Call Kingsley by fire, and get rid of Potter so those blasted alarms stop.”  
  
Lucius sighed and went to the fireplace at the other end of the room. He grabbed a handful of Floo powder and tossed it angrily into the flames. When the fire turned green he stuck his head in the fireplace and said, “Ministry of Magic, the Minister’s Office.”  
  
He wasn’t surprised to see that Kingsley Shacklebolt was in – the man was more conscious about the duties of his office than Cornelius Fudge had ever been. “Minister Shacklebolt,” he called, and the other man looked up from a parchment scroll.  
  
“Mr. Malfoy,” he said, a surprised look on his face. “Is – is there something wrong? It’s five in the morning….”  
  
“Yes, I’m well aware of the time,” Lucius said dryly. “I was just woken by my wards – someone is trying to break into the grounds.”  
  
“I’ll send a team of Aurors over right away.”  
  
“I believe one Auror is already here – Harry Potter is the one trying to dismantle my wards.”  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_October 7, 2001: 7:00 a.m.  
Ministry of Magic, the Minister’s Office_  
  
“What in the bloody hell did you think you were doing?” Kingsley crossed his arms over his chest and stared at the boy sitting across from him.  
  
Harry didn’t squirm under the other man’s glare, but returned his stare defiantly, green eyes blazing. “Finding Ginny!”  
  
“Damn it, Harry! How many times do we have to go over this? Your misguided obsession with that family has gone on long enough. You’ve left me no choice, Harry – I’m suspending you.”  
  
Harry almost fell out of his chair. “What? Kingsley, you can’t!”  
  
“I can, and I am, Harry. You’re clearly distraught at Ginny’s disappearance. I went against my better instincts and allowed you to work her case, but all you’ve done is harass the Malfoys. You’ve refused to consider any other possibility. I don’t know why you hate them so much, Harry, but this has to stop.” Kingsley took a deep breath and calmed himself before continuing. “I’ll send you regular updates, but until further notice, you are suspended.”  
  
Harry jumped up and strode for the door. Kingsley knew the boy was angry, but also knew that this was the right thing to do. “Harry,” he called, and the boy turned to look at him, a scowl on his face. “If you so much as put one foot in Wiltshire again, I will arrest you, war hero or not.”  
  
Harry slammed the door so hard the picture frames on Kingsley’s desk fell over.  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_October 7, 2001: 10:00 a.m.  
Malfoy Manor, Narcissa’s Study_  
  
There was a pile of correspondence on her desk to attend to, but Narcissa’s attention was focused on her magic mirror.  
  
Ginny was huddled against a corner in her cell, rocking back and forth, with her arms wrapped around her knees. The girl was mumbling to herself, counting –  _one, two, three, four_  – over and over again. She could see that Ginny’s eyes were dull and there were dried tear tracks on her dirty cheeks.  
  
Last night’s activities had clearly brought the girl to her breaking point, and Narcissa figured one or two more visits from Lucius would send Ginny over the edge.  
  
Narcissa was pleased.  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_October 9: 2001, unknown time  
Malfoy Manor, the Dungeons  
  
“One … two … three … four.” _  
  
Instead of trying to think of how to escape, she counted now to keep her mind off what had happened.  
  
Every time she stopped, she heard Malfoy’s voice cooing in her ear as he raped her.  
  
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw his face hovering over hers, felt his hair brushing against her shoulders.  
  
_“One … two … three … four.”_  
  
Even thinking about Harry wasn’t a comfort anymore. Sometimes she saw him with blond hair, or with grey eyes. Sometimes he just laughed at her, and mocked her for being so weak.  
  
Ginny pulled her knees tighter to her chest and rested her chin on them. She could smell berries and vanilla and the scent sickened her. Lately, each time she woke, she was clean and perfumed – which usually meant  _he_  would come. Her nerves were stretched to their limits; she was constantly on edge, waiting and waiting and waiting….  
  
_“One … two … three … four.”_  
  
She strained and listened for the  _tap, tap_  that signaled his presence between each number, but the sound never came.  
  
_Clang._  
  
She jumped forward, searching in the darkness for the metal cup that would bring relief from the memories and the nightmares and the  _waiting._  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_October 11, 2001: 7 p.m.  
London, Harry’s Flat_  
  
“Harry, how are you doing?”  
  
“As bloody well as can be expected, Hermione. Ginny’s still missing and I’m still suspended. Have you heard anything?” he asked eagerly, looking at Ron.  
  
“No, mate, there aren’t any new leads,” Ron said, slumping his shoulders dejectedly.  
  
Harry took a drink of his Firewhisky and said, “I know where she is – I don’t know why I’m wasting time sitting here. I just need to get past their wards….”  
  
“Harry!” Hermione said sharply. “Kingsley will arrest you! Do you really think you’d be any help to Ginny in Azkaban?”  
  
“Oh, right,  _Azkaban,_ ” Harry said. “Where the Malfoys belong. I should’ve chucked them in there after the war, screw what Narcissa did for me.”  
  
Hermione glared at him. “Narcissa Malfoy saved your  _life,_ Harry, and you’d throw her in Azkaban? She changed the course of the battle! How can you say that?”  
  
Harry got up from his chair and started to pace. “I know they were just pretending to change sides – she just wanted to save her precious son.”  
  
“Harry, I know you don’t like the Malfoys, but they’re not as evil as you make them out to be,” Hermione said softly. “I certainly didn’t care for Mrs. Malfoy when you asked me to be her escort … at first, all I could remember was that she stood by and let her sister torture me. But over the last three years I’ve seen that she’s a much better person than you give her credit for.”  
  
“Oh come off it, Hermione! You’re the brightest witch I know, and  _you_  think the  _Malfoys_  are good people?” She squirmed under his stare, and Ron put a reassuring hand on her knee. Harry’s eyes narrowed, and he spat, “What are you doing?”  
  
“Just comforting Hermione. You’re being a jerk, Harry. What has gotten into you lately?”  
  
Harry glared at his best friend. “ _My_  girlfriend is missing, and you’re about to snog yours in front of me!”  
  
“In case you forgot, Ginny is  _my_  sister, you prat!” Ron’s hands clenched into fists, and Hermione put her hand on his arm to keep him from jumping up.  
  
“I think you two should leave,” Harry snapped, an angry look on his face.  
  
“What? Harry! We just want to help –” Hermione cried, but he ignored her.  
  
He turned and headed for the kitchen, and said over his shoulder, “I’m going to get another Firewhisky. When I come back, I want you gone.”  
  
Hermione looked to Ron, but he shrugged cluelessly. “We’ll try again later,” he said, and tugged her towards the fireplace.  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_October 12, 2001: 10:00 p.m.  
Malfoy Manor, Narcissa’s Study_  
  
Uncharacteristically sprawled on the leather sofa in her office, Narcissa took a sip of wine and looked at the mirror hovering in front of her. Lucius had just gone down to the dungeons to work over Ginny, and she knew tonight would be the night the girl would break.  
  
Narcissa had thought about using another Invisibility Potion to conceal her appearance so she could be in the cell as it happened, but had decided against it in the end. Ginny’s screams were likely to be quite loud tonight and she wanted the ability to mute the girl’s cries. No sense in hurting her ears now – she’d be listening to enough of the girl’s drivel over the coming weeks.  
  
Right now, Ginny was huddled against a corner, rocking back and forth like she had been each time Narcissa had peeked in on her. She could see the girl’s head moving from side to side as she listened for the sound of footsteps. Narcissa had directed the elves to keep Ginny clean and scented with berries and vanilla for the last few days, so that the girl would be constantly on edge, waiting fearfully for Lucius to come hurt her.  
  
Everything Ginny had undergone so far had been carefully planned for maximum effect and tonight would be the  _coup de grâce_  in crushing the girl’s soul.  
  
Narcissa noticed her husband entering the girl’s cell, and saw Ginny stiffen as she heard the distinctive  _tap, tap_  of Lucius’s footsteps. She took another drink of wine and sat back to enjoy the show.  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_October 12, 2001: unknown time  
Malfoy Manor, the Dungeons_  
  
Ginny stiffened when she heard the sound –  _tap, tap_  – that signified Malfoy’s arrival.  
  
She began to pant as he stalked closer, and her heart started to race, but it was almost a relief to hear him coming. Fear had taken up permanent residence in her stomach over the last few days as she’d waited, always clean and perfumed now, for him to come back.  
  
_Tap. Tap._  
  
A sudden hand in her hair yanked Ginny to her feet, and she squeaked. She hadn’t thought he was that close to her. Malfoy chuckled at her reaction, and some of her fear twisted to rage. Ginny angrily kicked her foot in his direction, and heard him hiss when she hit his knee.  
  
“You should not have done that,” he snarled, and her momentary feeling of happiness fled. The hand in her hair loosened and she fell to her knees at the loss of support, then Malfoy’s wand lit, and Ginny cried when he held it in front of her face. Her eyes filled with tears from the pain of the light on her dark-accustomed eyes, and she didn’t see his hand reaching for her throat. But she felt it, especially when his fingers tightened, choking her until black dots chased away the light, and then she fainted.  
  
When she came to, wheezing and gasping, Ginny was lying on the stone floor. She tried to rub her throat, but she couldn’t move her hands. They were stuck, somehow, to the floor. She tried her legs next, and panic rose when she found they were also attached to the floor.  
  
“Didn’t I teach you any manners?” Lucius drawled, leering down at her. His wand was still lit, and she could just make out a nasty grin on his face. Ginny’s stomach plummeted at the thought of what he might do to her – was he going to … rape her again? She dry-retched at the thought, her insides heaving.  
  
_Oh Merlin! Not again, please!_  
  
She frantically tugged at her arms and legs, trying to free herself, but it was pointless.  
  
Malfoy let her struggle for a bit, then pointed his wand at her, and her arms and legs spread away from her body. Ginny felt even more exposed with her limbs stretched out, and she desperately wanted to cover herself, to hide from his cruel eyes.  
  
“You were, I believe, a Chaser? Had quite the promising Quidditch career?”  
  
His use of past tense fought through the fog of fear surrounding her, and Ginny managed to spit, “I  _am_  a Chaser.”  
  
Lucius chuckled again, and the hairs on the back of her neck shivered. “No, Ginevra. You see, I think Chasers need their hands, don’t they?”  
  
Ginny’s heart leapt into her throat as Malfoy held his foot over her right hand. Her fingers scrabbled frantically against the ground, trying to get away from his raised foot, but the spell he’d used held her fast.  
  
_Crunchcrunchcrunch._  
  
She howled in pain when his heavy boot crushed the delicate bones in her hand, and nearly fainted when Malfoy twisted his foot, grinding the bone shards against each other.   
  
Ginny  _did_  faint when he repeated the process on her other hand, smashing the bones until they felt like splinters. Lucius didn’t let her stay long in the peaceful blackness; he pointed his wand at her and said, “ _Ennervate._ ”  
  
She screamed in agony as she woke; Lucius had put his foot back on her right hand, and the full weight of his body was pressing on the broken bones. “I told you, Ginevra, that you would fear me,” he drawled.  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_October 12, 2001: 11: 30 p.m.  
Malfoy Manor, the Master Suite_  
  
Narcissa rested her head on her husband’s shoulder, snuggling against his body, as her hand traced down his bare chest. “You were perfect tonight,” she said.  
  
“Enjoyed the show, did you?” he asked, petting her silky blonde hair.  
  
“Mmm,” she said, pressing into his caress. “I do so love to watch you work,” she purred.  
  
Lucius was once again pleased with his decision to go along with his wife’s plan; they hadn’t this affectionate in years. “Why don’t you show me how much you love it,” he said teasingly, and Narcissa laughed lightly.  
  
“Plinky!”  
  
“Yes, Mistress?” the elf said, appearing with a crack.  
  
“Wake me at three o’ clock and bring a pain potion with you,” she ordered. The house-elf nodded and Disapparated, and Narcissa turned to her husband. “Now where were we?”  
  


*     *     *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic was written for the 2010 round of [hp_darkfest](https://hp-darkfest.livejournal.com/). The prompt was:
> 
>  _I'll find a day to massacre them all,_  
>  And raze their faction and their family,  
> The cruel father and his traitorous sons,  
> To whom I sued for my dear son's life;  
> And make them know, what 't is to let a queen  
> Kneel in the streets and beg for grace in vain.  
> \- William Shakespeare [Tamora, Titus Andronicus]
> 
> Come visit me on [tumblr!](http://galacticcoyote.tumblr.com/)


	4. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Harry Potter_ is not mine and no profit is made from this work. Written for the LJ community [hp_darkfest](https://hp-darkfest.livejournal.com/). See end notes for more information.

## Four:  
  
_‘Vengeance is in my heart, death in my hand.’_  
  
*     *     *

  
  
_October 13, 2001: 3:10 a.m.  
Malfoy Manor, the Dungeons_  
  
A soft, pained whimper met her ears when she entered the cell, and Narcissa had to keep a smile from her lips. Instead, she fixed a concerned expression on her face, held up her lit wand, and walked towards the girl.  
  
Ginny was asleep, still lying spread-eagle on the dungeon floor; Lucius hadn’t cancelled the bondage spell before he’d left her for the night. Narcissa could see that the girl’s broken hands were grotesquely swollen – they looked like Quaffles.  
  
_Perfect._  
  
Narcissa conjured a ball of bluebell flames that would be more soothing on Ginny’s dark-accustomed eyes than bright wand light and then pointed her wand at the sleeping girl. “ _Ennervate,_ ” she incanted and waited for her to wake.  
  
When Ginny’s pain-clouded eyes noticed the slim figure and the cloud of long blonde hair, her mouth opened in a frantic scream. She fought against the magic binding her to the floor, and immediately screeched even louder when her broken, mangled hands brushed against the hard stone.  
  
Narcissa knelt beside the girl and laid a gentle hand on her forehead. “Shhh,” she said softly, smoothing back the strands of hair plastered to Ginny’s clammy forehead. “I’m here to help you. Shhhh.” Narcissa patiently made soothing noises until Ginny calmed down, her screams ceasing as she realized the person touching her  _wasn’t_  Lucius Malfoy.  
  
“I will release the spell holding you, if you promise not to move.” At the girl’s nod, Narcissa flicked her wand and said, “ _Finite Incantatem._ ” Ginny wriggled her body slightly to make certain she wasn’t bound anymore, but other than that stayed still.   
  
“Before I heal your hands, I have a pain potion for you,” Narcissa said, removing a small vial from the pocket of her robe. She held the glass bottle to the girl’s lips, but Ginny twisted her face sideways. “It’s not poisoned, I promise.” Ginny shook her head and Narcissa sighed exasperatedly. “I didn’t sneak down here just to poison you. Look.” She raised the vial to her own mouth and took a sip. “It’s even infused with blueberries so that it tastes good, unlike most pain relieving potions.”  
  
Her face wary, Ginny reluctantly drank the rest of the blue liquid when Narcissa held the bottle to her mouth again. The potion did indeed taste like blueberries, and she unconsciously licked her lips as relief spread through her body, numbness blanking out the agony of her crushed hands.  
  
When the girl was completely relaxed, her head lolling against the floor and her eyes half-closed, Narcissa again took up her wand. She pointed the ebony wood at Ginny’s right hand and said, “ _Episkey,_ ” and then repeated the spell on the girl’s left hand. The potion prevented Ginny from feeling anything as the bone shards grinded past each other, but she did hear a sickly  _snick, snick_ as the bones started to reform.  
  
“W-why?” Ginny asked, when her hands were completely healed; even the swelling had disappeared. She longed to sit up from her exposed position, to curl up and find a corner to hide in, but was scared to move. Narcissa still had her wand in her hand….  
  
“Why, as in why am I helping you?” the other woman asked, and Ginny nodded. “Lucius has been acting rather suspiciously lately, and tonight I followed him … and saw what he did. I came down here when he fell asleep.” Narcissa looked down at her wand, which she was twirling between her fingers, and said quietly, “I should go back to our room before he notices I’m gone.” She stood, and Ginny’s stomach flopped oddly.  
  
The thought of being left alone again affected Ginny in a way it hadn’t before. She had always been relieved when Malfoy left her, because then the torture was over, at least until he came back. But Narcissa … she had just healed Ginny’s broken hands and had even given her a pain potion.  
  
When she was curled in her corner, her back to the comforting embrace of the walls, Ginny saw that Narcissa had left the ball of bluebell flames, and a tear slid down her cheek.  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_October 16, 2001: 5:00 p.m.  
London, Harry’s Flat_  
  
“Harry?”  
  
He opened his eyes and looked at Hermione’s worried face. “Oh. Hi. I guess I fell asleep.”  
  
“You were shouting in your sleep,” she said, her voice concerned. “Are you okay, Harry?”  
  
Harry stared at her, rubbing sleep from his eyes with the backs of his hands. “Er, yeah,” he said as his mind flashed back to his nightmare.  
  
_“HARRY!”  
  
He looked around wildly – that had been_  Ginny’s  _voice. Where was she? She_ needed  _him!  
  
But the room was dark – he couldn’t see anything. Harry grabbed his wand from his back pocket. _ “Lumos!”  _The tip of the wand flared with light, and he waved his wand around, looking for any sign of his fiancée.  
  
“Please Harry!”  
  
There! He followed the sound of her cry, stumbling hurriedly through the enormous stone room, until he saw her.  
  
“GINNY!”  
  
His girlfriend was tied to the wall, her arms and legs stretched wide and wrapped in chains. She raised her head when he yelled her name, and Harry saw that her face was bloody and bruised.  
  
He rushed to her side and patted her cheek soothingly. “I’m here, Ginny. I’ll save you.”  
  
“I knew you’d come, Harry,” she said through swollen lips.  
  
Harry tried to unfasten the chains around Ginny’s wrists and ankles, but with each spell he cast, they cut deeper and deeper into her skin. Before long the chains drew blood, and Ginny cried out in pain. “You’re hurting me,” she whimpered. _  
  
“Yeah,” Harry repeated through clenched teeth. “I’m fine.”  
  
Hermione twisted her hands together nervously and said, “I’m – Ron and I, I mean – we’re worried about you. You haven’t left your flat since … since Kingsley suspended you.”  
  
“I don’t have a reason to leave,” he said flatly. “I can’t look for Ginny anymore. And Ron’s concerned? Where is he, if he’s so worried?”  
  
“He thinks you’re mad at him.”  
  
“Well I am!”  
  
Hermione wisely changed subjects. “Are you sure you’re okay, Harry? I heard you mumbling Ginny’s name —”  
  
Harry fumbled for the bottle of Firewhisky that was now always beside his couch. “Just a nightmare,” he tried to say casually, and took a drink of alcohol.  
  
“A nightmare?” she asked worriedly, “about Ginny?” When Harry nodded, Hermione sat beside him and put a comforting arm around his shoulders. “Do you want to talk about it?”  
  
He didn’t, but maybe if he convinced Hermione and got her on his side, she would help him. “It’s always the same, well, mostly. I always hear Ginny’s voice yelling for me to … to save her. Sometimes I can’t even find her and just hear her screams, but when I find her … it’s not much better.” Hermione rubbed his back soothingly when his voice faltered, and Harry said slowly, “She needs me, Hermione. And I’m failing her.”  
  
“No you aren’t, Harry,” Hermione started to say, but he cut her off.  
  
“Yes I am!” He roughly pushed her arm away and when he took a swig of Firewhisky, Hermione’s eyes narrowed. “I know where she is, and no one will help me! You all just want me out of the way,” he spat.  
  
Hermione looked at him, a mixture of pity and confusion on her face. Harry hadn’t been himself since Ginny had disappeared, and his unwavering insistence that the Malfoys were involved worried Hermione. Harry was reminding her of how he’d acted when he thought Voldemort had taken Sirius, and she hoped he wasn’t about to act as rashly as he had then. “Calm down, Harry,” she said quietly.  
  
“Get out,” he said furiously.  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_October 18, 2001: 3:00 p.m.  
Malfoy Manor, the Drawing Room_  
  
Dusting ashes off her skirt, Pansy stepped out of the fireplace. “You wanted me?” she asked, and Narcissa suppressed a sigh. The girl had no manners.  
  
“I asked you here because I have something for you to do, but we’ll talk about that after. Tea, dear?” Narcissa waved at the table, inviting the girl to sit, and seated herself. “How have you been, Pansy?”  
  
Pansy took a bite of scone before replying, “Fine. Just bloody fine.”  
  
Narcissa arched an eyebrow and asked dryly, “Is something wrong?”  
  
“Draco hasn’t written me since he left,” the girl said in a rush.  
  
“I imagine he’s too busy enjoying his freedom after being cooped up for so long.” She sipped from her teacup and continued, “I’m sure he hasn’t forgotten you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”  
  
“Probably busy enjoying Parisian whores,” Pansy said bluntly, putting her scone down so roughly it crumbled on the plate.  
  
Narcissa swallowed her annoyance at the girl’s coarse manner and said, “He hasn’t sent me any letters either, Pansy.” That was a lie, of course; an owl had just delivered a new message from Draco that morning. He was having a  _lovely_  time touring the countryside in Aquitaine.  
  
Narcissa kept up the pretense of polite small talk with Pansy for a while longer, the girl squirming in her seat all the while, and was grateful when Lucius entered the room. The charade was almost over.  
  
“Hello Narcissa, Pansy,” he said, nodding at both women. “Did Narcissa tell you what the next step of the plan is?” he asked, sitting next to his wife.  
  
“No.”  
  
Lucius pulled a glass bottle full of a light-green liquid from his robes. “It’s time for Miss Weasley to be found,” he explained and handed Pansy the vial. “There are several doses worth of Polyjuice Potion in this bottle, which will be enough for what we want you to do.”  
  
“Try some now, Pansy,” ordered Narcissa, “so that you can get used to her body.”  
  
“Are you serious?” Pansy stared at the other woman, disbelief on her face. When Narcissa nodded, she reluctantly uncapped the bottle and took a hesitant sip.  
  
Lucius and Narcissa watched as Pansy double over in pain, crying out as her face shifted, her nose sharpening and becoming less pug-like. The girl’s dark brown hair turned to auburn and grew rapidly until it touched the middle of her back. In less than a minute, Ginny Weasley sat across from them, an annoyed look on her face. “Ugh, I have freckles!”  
  
Narcissa nodded at her husband, and he removed his wand from his walking stick.  
  
_“Avada Kedavra.”_  
  
Pansy didn’t even have time to blink before she was dead.  
  
Taking her own wand out, Narcissa pointed it at the girl and set to work permanently transfiguring Ginny Weasley’s features onto Pansy Parkinson’s body.  
  


*     *     *

  
  


**THE DAILY PROPHET**

**BREAKING NEWS!**

**HARRY POTTER’S MISSING FIANCÉE FOUND!**

  
  
Confidential sources in the Auror Department have reported to  _The Daily Prophet_  that the body of Ginevra Molly Weasley has been found outside Blakeney, a village in Gloucestershire.  
  
Weasley had been missing since September 4, 2001, when she disappeared after a Holyhead Harpies game. No leads or suspects have yet been identified.  
  
Private services for family and friends will be held on October 20, 2001 at 4:00 p.m., in the town of Ottery St. Catchpole.  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_October 20, 2001: 4:00 p.m.  
Malfoy Manor, the Dungeons_  
  
Ginny’s body tensed in her bonds when she heard footsteps coming toward her. She tried to look over her should to see if Malfoy was coming back – hoping against hope that it wasn’t him – but she was tied so tightly to the wall that she couldn’t turn her head.  
  
“Shhh,” a voice said in the darkness, and relief flooded her.  
  
It was  _Narcissa._  
  
Ginny had started to wonder if the other night had been a dream, a wonderful dream where someone had touched her gently and helped her. The other woman hadn’t come back since that night, although Ginny had often hoped she would. The memory of Narcissa’s soft hands and soothing voice had been quite a comfort over the past few lonely days.  
  
“I’m going to heal your back,” Narcissa said when she reached the girl, and Ginny whimpered when she felt a wand touch the bleeding wounds on her back. The other woman sang quietly, tracing her wand along the lacerations her husband had created, closing the gashes neatly until only faint scars showed on the girl’s skin. When she had healed each one, Narcissa turned her wand on the chains holding Ginny to the wall.  
  
Ginny fell backwards when her bonds vanished, and was surprised when Narcissa caught her. “T-thanks,” she whispered, her throat sore from her earlier screams. “I – I didn’t think you’d come back.”  
  
“I’ll come whenever I can,” she said, “when Lucius won’t find out.” Ginny hissed at the mention of the woman’s husband – he’d been horrible tonight, had beaten her with a bullwhip and had rubbed  _salt_  into the open wounds,  _Ennervating_  her each time she fainted. And she had fainted many, many times from the intense agony of having her black slashed to bloody ribbons. “Shhh,” Narcissa said again, petting Ginny’s tear-wet hair. “He’s not here now. Shhh.”  
  
The woman’s gentle touch broke something inside Ginny and she suddenly started to cry, not from pain but from the feeling of someone  _caring_  about her. Narcissa held her and let her cry, comfortingly rubbing her back. As Ginny sobbed out all of her frustration and fear and anger into the woman’s shoulder, she didn’t see the jubilant smile on Narcissa’s face.  
  
Narcissa was quite enamored with the thought that she was consoling Ginny at the same time that the girl’s family was holding her funeral.  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_October 20, 2001: 11:00 p.m.  
London, Harry’s Flat  
  
Harry ran down the now familiar hallway towards the stone room. Ginny’s cries weren’t there to guide him today, but he knew where she was.  
  
He found her bound to the wall again, her wrists and ankles caked in dried blood from where the chains had cut into her skin. Her head hung down, her red hair covering her face.  
  
“Ginny?” he said quietly, reaching his hand under her chin. Harry tipped her head up and then screamed in shock.  
  
Ginny’s dull, lifeless eyes stared at him from her white, bloated face. “No, no, no,” he shouted, backing away from her limp body.  
  
Her death-blue lips parted and a voice moaned, “W-why didn’t y-you saaave meee Harrrrry?” _  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_October 25, 2001: 5:00 p.m.  
Malfoy Manor, the Dungeons_  
  
“Would you like to … spend some time out of your cell?”  
  
Ginny’s heart leapt. “You’re – you’re letting me go?”  
  
Narcissa shook her head sadly. “You know I can’t do that, Ginny. My husband would….” she shivered in mock fright and then continued, “but Lucius has gone on a hunting trip and I thought I would let you come upstairs with me until he comes home. If you promise to behave, that is.”  
  
“I promise,” Ginny said instantly, excited at the thought of getting out of this dark room – even if just for a few days.  
  
“And you won’t argue when it’s time for you to go back to your cell?” Narcissa asked, her blue eyes staring intently at the girl.  
  
“I won’t.”  
  
“Good girl,” Narcissa said, and Ginny felt a balloon of happiness form inside her. Narcissa had been so kind and helpful to her. She had come several times now to heal Ginny’s wounds, and each time Narcissa had stayed to hold and comfort her.  
  
Narcissa led the girl upstairs and took her to a guest bedroom. “You can sleep here,” she said, and Ginny looked at the room in wonder. It was nicer than any room she’d ever seen, certainly  _much_ nicer than her room at the Burrow. The plush carpet was softer than clouds under her feet, which had become accustomed to the rough stone in her cell. The enormous bed was covered with a soft satin coverlet, and Ginny was almost scared to sit on it. She didn’t want to dirty it.  
  
Narcissa noticed her hesitation and asked, “The elves can draw you a bath, if you’d like.”  
  
Ginny suddenly felt dazed with all the changes. Being out of her cell and in this sumptuous bedroom was overwhelming, and now Narcissa was offering to have the house-elves do her bidding? It was too much. And she didn’t want an elf to help her … she wanted Narcissa.  
  
Narcissa hid a smile when she saw the panicked look on Ginny’s face. The girl was coming along quite nicely; all those cold, boring hours listening to her cry in the dungeons were starting to pay off.  
  
“Er – would – would you do it?” Ginny asked softly, her face blushing as red as her hair.  
  
“Come,” Narcissa said and led the way to the bathroom.  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_October 26, 2001: 1:00 p.m.  
Malfoy Manor, Narcissa’s Study_  
  
Ginny stared blankly at the book she was holding, her eyes glazing over at the mess of black words. She couldn’t concentrate enough to read – she still felt overwhelmed by all the changes that had happened in the last day. She could barely believe that she was actually  _out_  of her cell, never mind that she was sitting in  _Narcissa Malfoy’s_  study while the other woman worked.  
  
Narcissa had told Ginny she could go wherever she liked as long as she didn’t leave the manor, but not wanting to be left alone, Ginny had shyly asked to stay with her. Narcissa had arched an eyebrow at the request, but had said she could, and so Ginny had settled on the leather sofa in the woman’s study.  
  
Ginny looked up from the book and glanced around the room, again taking in the bronze and red tones of the room. She was reminded of the Gryffindor common room, except Narcissa’s study had much nicer furniture than the common room’s old squashy chairs and threadbare sofas.  
  
“Are you okay?”  
  
Ginny turned her head and saw that Narcissa was staring at her, a concerned expression on her face. “Er – I’m fine.” She plucked at the neck of the jumper she was wearing – she was unused to clothes after a month and more kept nude – and said, “It’s just a little … all the changes.”   
  
“Don’t get too used to it,” Narcissa said, a pointed reminder that this pleasant interlude wouldn’t last.  
  
Shrugging, Ginny replied, “I know. And I’m thankful to you for letting me out, even for a few days. But I can’t believe I’m just sitting here. I  _should_  get up and walk out. It’s what Harry would want me to do….”  
  
Narcissa’s gaze sharpened. “You promised me you wouldn’t. As for Harry … well, dear, I don’t think he cares very much about you.”  
  
Ginny took the chance to ask, “Are – are you sure Harry hasn’t come by to look for me?”  
  
“He hasn’t, dear,” Narcissa said quietly.   
  
The faint hope that Ginny had been holding onto dissolved. She hadn’t been able to believe it when Malfoy had told her that he hadn’t looked for her … but Narcissa was a different matter. Ginny could trust  _her._ Wasn’t Narcissa helping her even now? Narcissa had let her out of her cell and had given her clothes. She was even letting Ginny spend time with her so she didn’t have to be by herself.  
  
Narcissa stood up from her chair and walked over to Ginny. “I’m sorry, dear,” she said, sitting next to her. “I’ve heard some … rumors about him.” She put a comforting hand on Ginny’s knee. “His name has been mentioned several times in the Society Section of  _The Daily Prophet.”_  
  
Ginny’s heart sank even further. She knew the Society Section was full of gossip about who was dating whom, and who was hanging out where. If Harry was being written about … that meant he was spending his nights partying. Didn’t he care about her at  _all?_ Or had he already forgotten about his fiancée?  
  
Desperately needing a change of subject, Ginny asked, “What were you doing?”  
  
“Just some financial paperwork. Lucius prefers to be a socialite and leave the work of running the estate up to me,” Narcissa answered. She saw Ginny recoil at the mention of her husband and quickly added, “He’s not here now, remember that, dear. You’re safe with me.” Ginny still looked uncertain, no doubt remembering the torture she had suffered at Lucius’s hands. Narcissa patted her knee again and said, “Why don’t we go outside? I’m sure some fresh air would cheer you up.”  
  
Later, watching the girl fly around the gardens on one of Draco’s old brooms, Narcissa reflected that her plan was coming along quite well. She could tell from Ginny’s behavior that the girl was almost ready for the last step, and the thought of having her revenge on Potter at last filled Narcissa with something like elation.  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_October 29, 2001: 1:00 a.m.  
London, Harry’s Flat  
  
“Ginny?” he shouted, but there was no answering cry.  
  
Harry ran forward anyway, and only when he tripped over a bump in the ground did he realize he was outside. He fumbled in his back pocket for his wand and lit it with a muttered, _ “Lumos.”  _Harry cast the light around and gasped in shock when he saw his reflection in the marble stones around him.  
  
He was in a graveyard.  
  
And the gravestone in front of him had Ginny’s name on it.  
  
Harry crept forward slowly, stopping at the edge of the open pit. Hesitantly he pointed his wand downward and screamed when he saw what was in the hole.  
  
Ginny’s coffin was open and he could see maggots – like the ones Kreacher had given him for Christmas one year – swarming over her body. “GINNY!” he screamed, and her death-white eyelids snapped open, revealing glassy brown eyes.  
  
“Harrrryyy,” her mouth moaned, and he retched at the sight of a worm sitting on her swollen tongue.  
  
“No,” Harry cried, backing away from the grave. “Ginny, I’m so sorry!”  
  
“Harrrryyy,” he heard again, and he started to run, his own mouth open in a terrified scream. _  
  
Harry woke up, his heart pounding furiously, and it took him a minute to realize the sounds ringing in his ears were his own screams. He reached for the bottle of Firewhisky on the nightstand and drank deeply, gulping alcohol until he calmed down.  
  
But he couldn’t shake the image of Ginny’s dead body staring up at him with dull, accusing eyes.  
  
He needed to get  _out._  
  
Ten minutes later he was in a Muggle bar asking for a whisky; the bartender took one look at him and said, “You look like you need something stronger, son.” Harry nodded and the man slid him a shot glass of a dark brown, almost black liquid. He knocked back the glass immediately and gasped when the alcohol burned his throat.  
  
“Another,” Harry said, and the bartender obligingly slid another shot glass his way.  
  
“You must have had a bad night, son.”  
  
“You could say that,” Harry said and gulped down the second drink. The – what had the bartender called it? Jäger-something? – warmed his stomach and dulled his brain, and slowly the horrifying picture of Ginny faded.  
  
Harry felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to see a girl standing behind him. “Need some company?”  
  
“Er—”  
  
The girl took that as a ‘yes’ and hopped on the barstool next to him. “You’re drinking those shots mighty fast. What are you trying to forget? Fight with the girlfriend?”  
  
“I – I don’t have a girlfriend,” Harry mumbled. He didn’t – Ginny was  _dead._ Because  _he_  had failed her.  
  
She looked at him appraisingly and licked her lips. “You should, body like that. Want to go back to your place?”  
  
Perhaps it was the alcohol coursing through his blood, or the desperation that had sent him to the bar in the first place, but Harry returned her bold look and said, “Sure.”  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_October 30, 2001: 9:00 p.m.  
Malfoy Manor, Ginny’s Bedroom_  
  
“May I come in?”  
  
Ginny looked up and saw Narcissa standing in the doorway to her room. “Of course,” she said, and the other woman walked into the room and set the marble Pensieve she was carrying on the nightstand. “What is that for?”  
  
Narcissa sat on the bed next to Ginny and explained, “You asked about Harry … I asked some contacts of mine, and they retrieved these memories for me. Your fiancé has been quite the social butterfly lately.”  
  
Ginny could see that the white marble bowl was already full of silvery memories; there were so many in the Pensieve that it was almost overflowing. “I – I don’t want to see them,” she said.  
  
“It’s up to you. I’ll just leave it here in case you change your mind. Good night, Ginny,” Narcissa said and left the bedroom.  
  
Pulling the sheets and coverlet up to her chin, Ginny closed her eyes and tried to ignore the Pensieve. But the silver glow permeated her eyelids, and eventually curiosity got the better of her….  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_October 30, 2001: 9:30 p.m.  
Malfoy Manor, the Master Suite_  
  
“Y-you were right,” Ginny cried as she ran into Narcissa’s room and jumped into the bed. Narcissa opened her arms and the girl thrust herself against the other woman’s shoulder and sobbed, “There were so … so many girls.”  
  
“I’m sorry, dear,” Narcissa said, soothingly patting the girl’s back. “But I felt it was best that you knew that Harry never really cared about you.” She kept up the calming motions while Ginny cried her eyes out, her tears soaking Narcissa’s silk robe. “Shh,  _I’m_  here for you.”  
  
Ginny felt as though her heart would break. She had just seen, with her own eyes, proof that Harry had already moved on. Moved on with several girls in fact, first among them Cho Chang, his old Ravenclaw flame. Ginny had been sickened to see Harry and Cho walking hand-in-hand, and then kissing while they waited to cross the street. But there were even worse memories; Ginny had seen Harry take an unknown girl into his bedroom – the bedroom  _she_  had helped him decorate. She had fallen out of the Pensieve in shock when the two had climbed into his bed – the bed  _she_  had picked out for him.  
  
That’s when she had run to Narcissa’s bedroom, needing the comfort that only Narcissa could give her.  
  
“Ginny,” Narcissa said when the girl’s weeping eventually ceased, “you should go to bed.”  
  
“Don’t want to sleep,” Ginny said thickly, her throat sore from crying. “Don’t want to see Harry … and … and  _them._ ”  
  
“Do you want to stay with me?” Narcissa felt the girl nod against her shoulder. “Lie down then,” she said, and pulled the covers over both of them.  
  
Ginny snuggled thankfully against the one person who cared about her, and was almost asleep, exhausted from her emotional bout, when she heard Narcissa ask quietly, “Do you want to get back at him?”  
  
“Y-yes,” Ginny sniffled.  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_October 31, 2001: 8:00 a.m.  
Malfoy Manor, the Master Suite_  
  
Narcissa shook the girl awake early the next morning saying, “I’m sorry, Ginny, but Lucius is coming home this afternoon.”  
  
Ginny stared at her blankly. “What? Oh.  _Oh,_ ” she said when she realized what Narcissa meant. “I have to go back?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
She momentarily considered refusing, not wanting her respite from the dark and cold to end, but she squashed the thought immediately. Narcissa had dropped a few hints here and there that Lucius didn’t mind putting his hands on his wife, and Ginny didn’t want her savior to be hurt for helping her.  
  
“O-okay,” she said and slowly slid out of the warm, soft bed.  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_October 31, 2001: 5:00 p.m.  
Malfoy Manor, the Dining Room_  
  
“Did you enjoy your time alone with the girl?” Lucius asked while he cut his steak.  
  
Narcissa nodded. “She’s coming along quite nicely. I have her convinced that Potter is having the time of his life while she languishes in our dungeons.”  
  
“What should I do with her tonight?”  
  
Shrugging delicately, she said, “Whatever you like. Just mention Potter’s name as much as you can. Make her  _scream_  his name with hate.”  
  
_Merlin,_ how he loved his wife and her deviant mind. “You are quite the strategist, Narcissa. If only the Dark Lord had utilized your abilities….”  
  
“Thank you, Lucius,” Narcissa said and sipped her wine.  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_October 31, 2001: unknown time  
Malfoy Manor, the Dungeons_  
  
For the first time, Ginny wasn’t afraid when she heard the distinctive  _tap, tap_  of Malfoy walking towards her.  
  
He may have broken her spirit, but Narcissa had rebuilt it.  
  
“What game shall we play tonight, Ginevra?”  
  
She felt herself lift into the air as Lucius came closer, her body twisting into the position he favored for caning her bottom. The bent-over position tightened the skin on her arse and thighs, which were his favorite targets.  
  
“I’ve missed you  _so,_ ” Lucius purred in the girl’s ear, and was pleased when she couldn’t control the shiver of fear that rippled through her body. “Yes, that’s right. You fear me, don’t you, Ginevra?”  
  
Ginny longed to deny it – she wasn’t scared any longer – but she didn’t want him to know she wasn’t broken anymore. She didn’t want him to suspect that Narcissa had saved her. “Y-yes,” she whispered, with a hint of terror in her voice that wasn’t entirely faked.  
  
“That’s what I like to hear,” he drawled, and then walloped her arse with his snake-headed cane. “That’s the first of many, Ginevra. I want a nice red canvas for my artwork.”  
  
He didn’t stop caning her until her arse was blood red, both from the impact of his walking stick and the blood that dripped from the open wounds. Ginny’s new, non-fearful attitude disappeared around the fifteenth blow, and Lucius continually taunted her as she screamed and sobbed for him to  _‘stop, please stop.’_  
  
When she yelled that she hated him and that he was a sick bastard, Lucius sneered. “You shouldn’t hate  _me,_ Ginevra,” he said silkily. “Hate that fiancé of yours; he’s the reason you’re here, at my …  _mercy._ ”  
  
When Lucius took his wand to the torn skin of her arse, casting “ _Diffindo_ ” over and over, Ginny realized that she  _did_  hate Harry Potter.  
  
_Harry Potter_  didn’t care about her.  
  
_Harry Potter_  had left her here to suffer.  
  
_Harry Potter_  was kissing and touching and  _fucking_  other girls while she screamed her lungs out.  
  
She fucking  _hated Harry Potter._  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_November 1, 2001: 2:00 a.m.  
Malfoy Manor, the Dungeons_  
  
“I’m the only one who cares about you,” Narcissa said as she gently stroked Ginny’s hair.  
  
“You are,” Ginny sniffled and pressed into the comforting touch. Her arse still hurt – Narcissa hadn’t been able to heal the  _Diffindo_  cuts.  
  
“Harry doesn’t care about you, does he?” Narcissa smiled when she felt the girl’s body stiffen; Lucius had done his work well. “Your family doesn’t care either, do they? I bet your mother never had time for you with all those brothers.”  
  
Ginny closed her eyes; she didn’t want to think about her family. Narcissa was right – they hadn’t tried to find her either. “You’re right,” she whispered. “You’re always right.”  
  
“I always wanted a daughter,” Narcissa said softly, twirling a lock of Ginny’s hair around her finger. “ _I_  care about you.  _I_ would have time for you.”  
  
Her heart fluttered oddly, and Ginny turned to look at Narcissa, curiosity clear in her brown eyes. “Do – do you mean that?”  
  
“I’m here taking care of you right now, aren’t I?”  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_November 15, 2001: 10:00 p.m.  
Muggle London_  
  
A shock of messy black hair caught her eye as soon as she entered the bar, and, flicking her mane of blonde hair over her shoulder, she stalked towards him.  
  
He didn’t look up when she sat next to him; he was busy signaling the bartender for another drink. “Hey there.”  
  
“Hiii,” he slurred, turning, and she gasped when familiar green eyes stared at her. “I’m Harry.”  
  
“Gi – Lysandra, my name’s Lysandra,” she said, cursing her momentary slip. But fortunately he was too drunk to notice that she’d stumbled over her own name.  
  
Harry knocked back his shot and gestured for another. “Pretty name,” he said. “You’re pretty, too,” he said, staring at her short skirt.  
  
Ginny pointed over her shoulder at a group of giggling girls. “I was just talking with my friends about how it’s a shame such a hot guy is sitting here by himself.”  
  
“Oh yeah?”  
  
She raised her hand and traced the lighting bolt scar on his forehead. “That’s an interesting scar you have … want to tell me how you got it? Somewhere private?”  
  
“My flat’s just around the corner,” Harry said and stood unsteadily.  
  
Swallowing her disgust, Ginny followed him out of the bar and to a flat that she remembered well. She’d helped him find the apartment back when he’d decided to quit bunking with Ron.  
  
As soon as they were inside, Harry pushed her against the door and kissed her sloppily while his hands cupped her arse; she gagged at the strong taste of alcohol on his lips and tongue.  
  
The nauseating kiss told Ginny everything she needed to know.  
  
Harry stumbled back and almost fell when Ginny pushed him away. “W-what’s w-wrong?” His eyes suddenly focused when he noticed she was pointing a wand at him. “You’re a witch?” he asked dazedly.  
  
“You’re pathetic, Harry,” she snapped.  
  
“Do – do I know you?”  
  
“Forgot me that easily, Harry?” Ginny asked icily, cold anger taking up residence in her stomach. “I’m hurt.”  
  
“Do I know you?” he repeated dumbly, all the alcohol he’d consumed clouding his brain.  
  
The tip of her wand shook as she shouted, “Two months! You forgot me in two months! What kind of boyfriend are you?”  
  
“I don’t have a girlfriend.”  
  
“You don’t? Weren’t you engaged?”  
  
“She died,” he said flatly, then, “How did you know I was engaged?”  
  
Her calm demeanor cracked entirely and Ginny shrieked, “I’m your fiancée you fucking moron! I’m standing right in front of you and you didn’t even recognize me!”  
  
Harry’s eyes took in the girl’s blonde hair and blue eyes and he said confusedly, “You can’t be Ginny … Ginny had red hair. Ginny’s dead, anyway….”  
  
“Do I look dead to you? I might as well be,” she spat furiously. “You never came to look for me. You never tried to find me.”  
  
He quailed under the intensity of her blue-eyed stare and mumbled, “I tried, but no one believed me—”  
  
“YOU SPENT ALL YOUR TIME DRUNK AND WHORING AROUND, NO WONDER NOBODY BELIEVED YOU. I’VE SPENT THE LAST TWO MONTHS BEING TORTURED, AND YOU’VE BEEN FUCKING ANYONE THAT WOULD TOUCH YOUR DRUNK ARSE.”  
  
Her yells cut through some of his drunken haze, and Harry squinted his eyes. The girl was about Ginny’s height, and look – there were a few freckles on her nose, in the same spot where Ginny had freckles. “Ginny?” he said in disbelief. “I tried—”  
  
“I don’t want to hear it,” she said coldly, interrupting him. “You didn’t care about me when I disappeared, and you don’t care about me now.” Harry held up his hands in protest, but she ignored him. She’d had  _enough_  of Harry  _fucking_  Potter.  
  
She leveled the wand Narcissa had given her at his chest. “ _Avada Kedavra,_ ” Ginny said firmly, and reveled in the hurt, incredulous look that flashed in his green eyes before the beam of sickly, green light hit him.  
  


*     *     *

  
  
_November 15, 2001: 10:45 p.m.  
Malfoy Manor, Narcissa’s Study_  
  
“You were right,” Ginny said when she Apparated into Narcissa’s office. “He didn’t care. He didn’t even recognize me.”  
  
“Let me see, darling,” Narcissa said, and Ginny obediently looked at the other woman, blue eyes meeting blue eyes. “ _Legilimens._ ” Narcissa watched as Ginny’s memory of the night replayed, starting with the meeting at the seedy bar, then the sickly kiss, and lastly the confrontation with Harry. When she saw Ginny use the Killing Curse on her former fiancé, and felt the surge of elation the girl had felt at doing so, Narcissa didn’t bother to hide her triumphant smile. Her plan was finally complete – she’d gotten revenge on Potter, and done it in the most  _delightful_ way.  
  
“Come here,” she said when the memory ended, opening her arms to embrace the girl. “You did wonderful, darling,” Narcissa said softly, stroking Ginny’s silky blonde hair. “You’ve proven yourself – you’re one of the family now.”  
  
“Thank you, Mother.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I'll find a day to massacre them all,_  
>  And raze their faction and their family,  
> The cruel father and his traitorous sons,  
> To whom I sued for my dear son's life;  
> And make them know, what 't is to let a queen  
> Kneel in the streets and beg for grace in vain.  
> \- William Shakespeare [Tamora, Titus Andronicus]
> 
> Come visit me on [tumblr!](http://galacticcoyote.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for the 2010 round of [hp_darkfest](https://hp-darkfest.livejournal.com/). The prompt was:
> 
>  _I'll find a day to massacre them all,_  
>  And raze their faction and their family,  
> The cruel father and his traitorous sons,  
> To whom I sued for my dear son's life;  
> And make them know, what 't is to let a queen  
> Kneel in the streets and beg for grace in vain.  
> \- William Shakespeare [Tamora, Titus Andronicus]
> 
> Come visit me on [tumblr!](http://galacticcoyote.tumblr.com/)


End file.
